Why We Fall
by CaptainoftheUSSTardis
Summary: Everyone thinks that the daughter of Bruce Wayne has it easy. But they don't know the truth. The don't know much her father's disappearance affected her. They don't know that she has a mother who is practically never home. They don't know that she can remember everything she sees, only reminding her how bad things have become... until Bruce sets foot in Gotham again.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Hello readers! I'm very excited to start this new story. (Also, Lyssandra is pronounced: Lye-sandra, Lysa: Lye-sa) Enjoy!**

* * *

Prologue

**"Are you sure** she should come to the hearing?" Lyssandra's dad, Bruce Wayne asked from the passenger seat of the car. He gazed back at her quickly, with slight uncertainty, and then back to her mom, who was driving. "Yes," Rachel Dawes replied firmly, not taking her eyes off the road. "It will be good for the jury to see two members of the Wayne family there." Lysa continued to watch her parents bicker back and forth. She was in the back seat of her mother's car, on the way to the court house. They said that they were trying the man who killed her grandma and grandpapa. It was the first time her parents had talked about her grandparents in years. Bruce never really talked about them. Whenever, Lysa had asked about them, he shied away, changing the subject. Even Alfred, Bruce's butler and good family friend never brought up the subject. She only knew that her grandpapa had been a powerful businessman, with a lot of influence over the city, but everyone knew that.

Bruce shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortably at the newspaper on the dash. On the front page in big, bold letters, there was a headline about the hearing, and how Bruce returned to Gotham because of it. Her dad had been away at Princeton University. It was the first time she saw her dad in several months, she hoped he would stay this time.

She remembered the times when he held her, twirled her, laughed with her. They would play for hours on the Wayne Manor grounds.

It was perfect. Her mom was always caught up with work, but made time to see them. Lysa remembered those memories so well, so vividly. She could play them in in her mind over and over. She could always remember things really well, which was both a gift and a burden. Sometimes, she didn't want to remember, because it only reminded her of better times. The times before Bruce left.

"She's only ten years old, she doesn't need to see this stuff," Bruce argued, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Younger is better for the jury," Rachel countered. "You know I can hear both of you," Lysa spoke up, then shaking head and gazing out the window.

Both Rachel and Bruce fell silent, or she thought they did. Lyssandra wasn't paying attention anymore. Only the streets on Gotham outside the car widow filled her mind. Her mom spoke often of how people thought the city was broken, but she didn't like to believe it and she knew her mom didn't believe it either. Bruce's thoughts on the other hand, were a mystery to her. It was possible that he thought the city was broken, but he hadn't spent much time in it for the past few months. Lysa never brought up the subject with her parents.

The car rolled up to the front on court house. Bruce opened the passenger door for her and they were immediately flanked by reporters and the harsh flashing of cameras. Bruce held her hand and she instinctively hid her face in her dad's coat. "It's okay, Lysa," she heard Bruce whisper.

Most of the talking and flashing stopped when they entered the court house. Lysa was grateful for it. And by the look of it, Bruce was as well. She wasn't use to all this attention. Sure, whenever she would go into the city with her father the occasional reporter would snap a picture, or a group of people would stare as they passed, but there would never this many flashes at once. It made her uncomfortable, and slightly queasy.

"How long do we have to be here?" Lysa asked her dad quietly. "Hopefully not too long, honey," he replied, equally quiet. He gave her a reassuring smile, as did her mom. Her smiled lingered longer than Bruce's as he looked back up and stared straight ahead, with a slightly nervous but determined look. Lysa wondered what was going through his mind. Was he devastated? Angry? Nervous? Maybe a mix of everything. Whatever he was feeling, Lysa couldn't imagine. She never knew her grandparents, she knew nothing about them. Nothing personal, at least.

* * *

The hearing dragged on for about an hour and a half. Most of the time, Lyssandra didn't know what anyone was saying, and she eventually zoned out, only staring at the busy streets of Gotham. People in suits were walking with bags of food from lunch, reporters waited for the hearing to be over, eager for the verdict. The occasional police car whizzed by and Lysa wondered where they were going.

Lyssandra didn't know how long she'd been staring out the window when the judge's words caught her attention. "I understand there are members of the Wayne family here today," he said, staring at her dad. "Would they like to say anything?" Everyone shifted their gaze to Bruce as he stood up. He stayed silent for a while, and Lysa sat in anticipation, wondering what he was going to say, _if _he was going to say anything at all. He stared at the man who killed grandma and grandpapa, Joe Chill, and left the court room without saying a word. There was a low murmur throughout the room until the hearing continued. "Where's daddy going?" Lysa asked Rachel, holding her hand. "I don't know," she replied quietly.

When the hearing concluded, Lyssandra was the first one to stand up and rush out of the court room, not even bothering to wait for her mom. Rachel would most likely get caught up talking to coworkers. Lysa looked for her dad, if he was still there. The hall outside the court room was still mostly empty, except for a dark figure behind a column down the hall. She recognized his face. It was Bruce. Lysa looked back at the court room, people were starting to exit and she caught a glimpse of Rachel looking for her. Lysa quickly walked over to the column where she saw Bruce. He was fiddling with something in his coat sleeve when she got there. "Daddy, what are you doing?" She asked, looking at his sleeve. He looked up quickly, shocked. "Oh nothing, honey. Go and find your mother," he said. "But-" Lysa was cut off the chatter of reporters. "Mr. Chill!" They cried, snapping pictures and holding recording devices to his face. Bruce whipped around see the commotion. He told Lysa to find Rachel again, and then stepped out into the hallway, towards Chill.

Lysa started to follow him, keeping a few meters distance, wondering what he was doing. _Was he going to talk to Chill?_ Then Lysa got close enough to see what he was hiding in his sleeve. A gun. He was going to kill him. Actually _kill_ him. Her eyes grew wide and her heart started to race. She didn't know what to do. She quickened her pace, but so did Bruce.

Then a gunshot rang out. It was the loudest sound Lysa'd ever heard. Her ears rang, and her heart raced even faster, worried she that the shot came from her dad's gun. But it hadn't. Bruce looked as shocked as Lysa. Her mother appeared beside her, asking if she was okay and holding her hand. Lysa nodded, wide eyed as they approached Bruce. A hoard of people surrounded Chill; Lysa couldn't take her eyes from the scene, no matter how much she wanted to. She saw him quickly conceal the gun back in his sleeve. "You don't need to see this," Rachel said to both of them.

As they made their way to Rachel's car, only one thought raced through Lyssandra's mind. _Dad was going to kill him. He was going to kill Joe Chill. He was going to become like him. _But he couldn't, he couldn't _actually _kill someone. Not her dad. This Bruce wasn't the dad she played with, who danced with her, who twirled her around the Wayne gardens on sunny days.

Lyssandra slipped into the back seat of the car, Rachel in the driver's seat and Bruce in the passenger's seat. Just like when they drove here. Lysa didn't know what else to do, what to think, so she listened to her parents' conversation.

"Falcone paid him off to get Chill in the open," Rachel said. Lysa didn't know much about Falcone. Rachel never talked about work, but it distracted from her spinning thoughts.

"Maybe I should thank them," Bruce replied bitterly. "You don't mean that," Rachel said.

"What if I do, Rachel? My parents, Lysa's grandparents, they deserve justice... they never got to meet her. I wish they could." Lysa felt a pang in her chest. Rachel gave him a sympathetic look, but it was still laced with concern. "You're not talking about justice, you're talking about revenge," Rachel told him. Bruce shook his head. "Sometimes they're the same."

"They're _never _the same, Bruce," Rachel's tone became more threatening. "Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about _you _making yourself feel better. That's why we have an impartial system-"

"Well, your _system _is broken."

"Don't you tell me the system's broken. I'm busting my ass in school so I can do something to fix it. You care about justice?" Rachel steered the car to an exit ramp, and soon it felt as if the car was engulfed by darkness. The streets were dark, there was hardly any street lights. Trash laced every crevis. It looked like something out of a nightmare. Lysa'd never been in this area of Gotham. Bruce had been careful to not bring her around here. It was the first time she realized how scary Gotham could be. Maybe the city _did _need fixing. Her mom was still going on about Falcone and how he was flooding the streets with crime. "I'm scared," Lysa said softly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Rachel stopped the car in front of a dilapidated building. "I know, honey. Don't worry, we're going home soon," she soothed.

Lysa just wanted to be in her room at Wayne Manor, with Bruce beside her, reading her favourite bedtime story: _Goodnight Moon_.

"What chances does Gotham when the good people do nothing?" Rachel asked. Bruce was silent, looking down at his sleeve where he concealed the gun in the court house. "Maybe I'm not one of your 'good people'," Bruce said. Lysa could see him slipping the gun out slightly from under his sleeve. "What do you mean?" Rachel asked, slightly alarmed. "All this years I wanted to kill him," he confessed, fully showing the gun he hid in his sleeve. "Now I can't." A wave of shock took over Rachel's expression, as well as Lysa's. _How long had be been planning this? _Had Bruce been thinking of killing Chill when they'd play? When they'd dance? When he'd tucked her in at night? The thought frightened her.

"You were going to kill him yourself," Rachel realized, and she shook her head. "Bruce, you have a family, a daughter to think about. What would have happened to her? What she'd have done without you?" Lysa stayed silent, but felt tears slowing streaming down the cheeks. Bruce didn't say anything, he only looked back at Lysa and stretching his arm out to squeeze her hand. She queezed back, smiling.

Bruce looked back at Rachel, and then to the building. "But you're just another coward with a gun," Rachel shook her head. "No better than Chill. Your father would be _ashamed._" That was the last thing Rachel said, before Bruce looked back at Lysa one more time and exiting the car and walking into the building.

"Let's go home," Rachel said, starting the car and driving towards the main freeway. "When's daddy going to be back?" Lysa asked, still staring at the building her dad walked into as they sped away. They weren't just going to leave him there, were they? Rachel let out a long breath. "I don't know, honey."

After that, Lyssandra stayed up in Rachel's apartment waiting Bruce to pick her up and take her back to Wayne Manor. But he didn't. Then she stayed up the next night waiting. He still didn't come. Then she waited the next night, and week, and month. He just disappeared, nobody knew where he went, not even Alfred. For the first years of his disappearance, Lysa thought that he would stride through their front door, saying how much he missed them. But after four years, she stopped imagining. She started going to public school, since Rachel couldn't pay for homeschooling, and everyone stared at her, every day she heard whispers of her father. "He's not coming back, you know," people would say. "He left to get away from his family." "He's probably lying dead in a ditch somewhere." Most of the time, Lysa ignored the rumours, but sometimes they were too hard to ignore.

She would cry in the bathroom stalls at school, and Rachel was never around long enough to ask her what was wrong. She refused to believe that her father wouldn't come back, but then she turned fifteen, then sixteen, then seventeen, and even though the memories of her fathers didn't fade, her hope did, until there was almost nothing left.


	2. Chapter I

**Author's Note: To the guest that reviewed, **

**1\. I understand that Bruce Wayne is young (as you said, about 29), but this is an AU, it doesn't have to follow every detail of the original story, and that's the whole point. So I understand your concern, but I'm not following the original movie to a tee. I am allowed to change aspects of the story, in this case, Bruce is older (35), and still physically capable of being Batman. Hell, Bruce is 55 in The Dark Knight Returns and he can still be Batman, but I digress. **

**2\. I'm not going to apologize for writing these types of stories. I like writing them so that's what I'm going to do. If you don't like it, don't read it, but don't blame people for writing what they love. And just because I have a couple of these types of stories doesn't mean it's the only thing I'm going to write. **

**Thank you for your time. **

**Now that that's over, enjoy!**

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Chapter One

Seven years after Bruce's disappearance.

**Lyssandra** **was** **the** only one on the train station platform when the train slowly rolled into the station on Friday morning. The October wind blew in her face, making her instinctively run her hand through her long, caramel-brown hair. Lysa had been taking the train to school every day since she started high school three years ago. She'd been terrified at first, she'd wouldn't go on without her mother for the first week. But after a while, she got used to it. Most of the time it was empty, nobody else on the car, on any of the cars. As the doors opened with a creek, Lysa gripped her backpack a little tighter and slipped into a seat of the graffiti-ridden train.

Alfred had told her that it wasn't always like this. When her grandparents were alive, everyone took this train, the city was in better hands, and it prospered. Now... it was just the opposite. She wondered about her father, as she had done every day for the past seven years. She refused to believe he was _actually _dead, but the chances of her seeing Bruce again were getting slimmer and slimmer. Two years ago, on her fifteenth birthday, she'd missed him so much that she took her mom's key she kept on her dresser and snuck into Wayne Manor and slept in her old room. All of her old stuff was still there, including her copy of _Goodnight Moon. _She'd read it to herself, under the covers, tears welling up in her eyes. Eventually, Alfred found her, but she told him not to call her mom, at least, not for a little while.

"What were my grandparents like?" She had asked as Alfred handed her a mug of hot chocolate. "They were very good people, probably the best people in Gotham. They were always trying to make the city better," he said, then looked down. A wave of devastation made its way onto his face. "It's a tragedy, what happened." She'd been too young to understand before, but know she knew that her grandparents' murder hadn't been just a robbery. It had been planned, thought out by Gotham's crime bosses, people that still walked and breathed and lived, while her grandparents were buried in the ground at Wayne Manor.

"Why did he leave?" Lyssandra had asked, in between a sip of the rich hot chocolate. She didn't know why, but she couldn't look at Alfred when she asked. Memories of the dark streets of Gotham floated to her mind, as perfect as when the day she'd been there. The last time she saw her father. Photographic memory. That's what she had, why she could memorize pages her text books and maps and places and events just by looking at them.

"I don't know why your father left," Alfred replied, squeezing her hand, the way Bruce used to. "And we may never know."

The sound of bells rung through the house, making Lysa jump. A little bit of the hot chocolate spilt over the edge of mug, onto her hand. Her hand jerked away, flicking the drops of chocolate onto the light gray comforter, staining it. "That would be your mother," Alfred told her, getting up from the side of her bed. "You coming?" Lysa let out a sigh and went to meet her mother.

Lyssandra's phone vibrated in her pocket, taking her from her thoughts. She quickly unlocked it and read the text. _I'm going to be home late tonight. Maybe around 8. –Mom. _Lysa scoffed. The last five texts her mother had sent were like this. She always said she was going to be late. On good days, Rachel would come home at 6. On bad days, she wouldn't come home until after midnight. It felt as if Rachel spent more time at her job than at home. Lysa didn't bother replying.

A moment after slipping her phone back into her pocket, she instinctively took it out again to check if there were any news stories about Bruce Wayne, even though she'd set her phone to send her notifications whenever new stories arose. There were none. There hadn't been any since the first years of Bruce's disappearance. And if there were any new stories, they would only talk about how he was _still_ missing.

The train pulled up to the station closest to her school and the doors slid open. Lyssandra gripped her phone and backpack and walked off the train and down the two blocks to her school, Gotham Central Public High School. As she approached the main entrance, she noticed a squad of police cars were parked on the roads either side of the school. Another drug raid. A couple years ago the public school board made it mandatory that the police search the school for drugs, twice a year, to discourage dealing and possession.

Lyssandra pulled open the heavy bullet-proof glass doors and made her way to her locker. It was on the second floor, across from the science labs. Police with their dogs walked slowly beside the rows of lockers, occasionally stopping for a moment, but then moving on. When she rounded the hallway, two police officers were rummaging through an open locker. _Her _locker. _What the hell? _She never smoked a day in the life, and even if she wanted to, her mother worked in the DA's office. If she was caught, she would be grounded for the rest of her life, and probably have to do community service or something like that.

Her pace quickened. "Hey!" she called to the police officers. One was a woman, with caramel skin and dark brown hair wrapped in a tight bun. The other was an older man, with a grey mustache. Her voice caught his attention, and his head whipped around. It was James Gordon, her parents' old friend. "Officer Gordon," Lysa smiled in confusion. "What are you doing in my locker? You didn't find anything, did you?" The contents of her locker were all there, her textbooks, binders, lotion, body spray. She could even see the picture of her and Bruce peeking out from underneath her pair of gym shoes. The picture had ended up there in a fit of rage when she had heard someone say that Bruce had left Gotham because of her.

"Nope, you're clean," Gordon smiled. "Just a false positive. I told Officer Ramirez, here that there was no way Lyssandra Wayne could have anything remotely incriminating."

"Well thanks," Lysa smiled. "But I thought you were above all this," she gestured to the other police officers in the hall. Gordon shrugged. "Yeah well, someone's gotta do it, might as well be me," he laughed, and petted the dog beside him.

Gordon and Ramirez were just about to continue down the wall when Lysa spoke up. "Gordon!" He looked back up at her. "You might want to check the lockers by the auditorium, it always smells like pot when I pass by." Gordon smiled. "Will do."

The first two periods, exercise science and chemistry, seemed as if they lasted an enternity. Lyssandra was so thankful by the time lunch rolled around. It was the time when everyone was wrapped up in their own drama to care about hers. By then all of the cops had left the school. The cafeteria was mostly full. It took up two levels with floor-to-ceiling windows and rows of faded yellow and green circular tables, their school colours. The TVs mounted on the walls were quietly playing the news, like they did every day.

Lysa sat with her two best friends, well, her _only _friends, Alexa and Mason. "Did you hear?" Mason said as Lysa unpacked her lunch. It was the usual. Peanut butter and honey sandwich. "What?" Alexa asked, eating a spoonful of couscous salad. "The police caught Ryan Jackson with almost a pound of weed in his locker."

"Ha! I knew he would get caught eventually. The whole school knew he was dealing," Lysa said. "If he was this oh-so great dealer, you'd think he would have a better place to hide it," Alexa added. "Yeah, well, it's not like the students at Gotham Central are running cartels," Lysa replied with a laugh. "Oh, Lysa," Alexa said, pointing her spoon towards her. "What was the homework for chemistry Mr. Fredericks wrote on the board? I didn't have time to copy it down." Lysa smiled and picture the blackboard in the chem room. "Chapter 5.6 questions one to six, chapter 5.7 questions four, five and eight and chapter 5.8 questions one to three and six," Lysa recited, replaying the memory. "Man, what would I do without you," Alexa asked, pretending to swoon. "You would fail," Mason joked. They all let out a laugh. Lysa's phone vibrated. Probably another text from her mom. Did she have to stay at work until nine now? She pulled it out of her pocket. But it wasn't a text.

It was a news update.

_"'Prince of Gotham' Bruce Wayne, son of the late Thomas and Martha Wayne, returns to Gotham after a seven year-long disappearance."_

Lyssandra had to read the headline three times before in taking the information. Bruce Wayne was back. Her father was back. In Gotham. He was back. Did he want to see her? Did _she _even want to see him?

"Hey, Lysa," Mason said. She whipped her head up from her phone. "Is that your father on the news?" He asked, pointing at the TVs. Every one of them had the same headline that was on her phone. The cafeteria got really quiet, there was a low murmur, and it seemed like everyone was staring at her.

When she started high school, her mother had registered her as "Lyssandra Dawes" but people knew the truth. Alexa and Mason figured it out pretty quick. Now everyone knew she was Lyssandra _Wayne, _and if they didn't, they would find out eventually.

Lysa continued to stare at the screens, and then back to phone, and then the screens again. All of a sudden she wasn't hungry anymore, she couldn't even look at her lunch. "I..." She didn't know what to say. Words couldn't exit her mouth. "Lysa, are you okay?" Alexa asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Of course she's not okay, look at her," Mason replied. Alexa said something back, but by then Lysa wasn't paying attention. The temperature of the room was rising, and she needed air. She got up, and ran out of the cafeteria, not looking back. She already knew everyone was staring at her.

She ran through the bright halls of the school, hardly hearing the teachers telling her to stop. She ran until she burst out of the front of the school and sank to her knees on the green lawn.

Eventually, Mason and Alexa found her, well into third period. They said that it would all blow over soon, and Lysa wished she could believe them. The rest of the day felt like it was going at light speed, the people in her third and fourth period classes talked, as she assumed they would. Luckily, she had Mason and Alexa there to keep her mind off the subject. They knew that her father was a sensitive topic, and instead they talked about the drug raid and which senior was supposedly pregnant. Usually, Lysa hated that kind of gossip, but that day it was nice to talk about other people, since everyone was talking about her.

By the time the final bell rang at three, Lysa wanted nothing more than to go home and watch her favourite TV show on Netflix, _Grey's Anatomy_. As she exited the front doors of the school, her phone vibrated, and then kept vibrating. She pulled her phone out. "Mom" in big letters appeared on the screen. "Hi, mom," she said, answering the call. _"Did you see the news?"_ Rachel asked. "Of course I did," Lysa answered. There was a lot of commotion on her mother's end. "Have you talked to him?" Lysa asked. What was Bruce even doing right now? _"What? No, I've been busy,"_ Rachel answered. _"I'm going to see if I can leave early but for now, no such luck,"_ she added, with a hint of disappointment.

An engine revved, passing the main street in front of the school. The car circled back and stopped at the curb, no more than 6 metres in front of her. That was when she noticed that the car was a shiny gray Ferrari, and by the looks of it, everyone noticed, too.

Everyone outside was staring at the car, pointing and whispering. Even the teachers going to their cars were staring. The driver's window rolled down, and out popped the head of Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne.

"Lysa!" He called to her. Now _everyone _was staring at her. She was having trouble wrapping her mind around what happening. Bruce Wayne, who just reappeared after seven years, was picking her up from school. _"Honey? Are you there?" _Rachel's voice came from her phone. Had she been talking this whole time? "Mom, I have to go, Bruce is here," she whispered quickly, and ended the call before Rachel could say another word.

Lyssandra approached the car, to Bruce's smiling face. "What are you doing?" she asked harshly. There it was. The first words she said to her father in seven years. She couldn't take them back. Of everything she had imagined saying to Bruce if he ever came back, this was the furthest sentence from.

Bruce cocked his head. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently. "You couldn't have parked down the street or something?" Lyssandra knew everyone was staring at her, she could feel their eyes on her without needing to look. She could even here the quiet clicks of cameras snapping pictures. Bruce smiled.

"I thought you didn't care what people thought of you," he said, eyeing the other students and teachers on the lawn. "That was seven years ago," she hissed, however her words were faltering.

Lysa stood there for a few seconds more, and everyone was waiting to see what she was going to do. She couldn't bear it anymore, she had enough staring for one day, and she walked around to the passenger's side and slid into the seat. The leather was cool and clean. The car still smelt new, but dust covered the dash. She hadn't been in a car this nice in seven years, more.

Bruce started the car, and the loud hum of the engine sounded and they sped away, leaving the school behind. Neither Lysa nor Bruce said anything for a while, though Bruce kept turning his head from the road to her every couple of minutes. She only stared out the window, at the busy streets of Gotham whizzing by. Lysa then cocked her head towards Bruce. "Why did you come?" she asked. Bruce gave her a look of confusion for a second and then gazed back to the road. "Why did I come back to Gotham, or why did I pick you up?"

"Why did you come pick me up?" To be honest, Lysa didn't think she was ready to hear where Bruce had been all this time, or why he even came back to Gotham.

"I wanted to see you," he replied simply. Lysa let out a short scoff. "Well, you're seven years too late," she sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. Bruce sighed. "Listen, Lyssandra, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to leave but-"

"Then why did you?" Lysa snapped. Bruce didn't respond. She knew that he couldn't give her a good reason of his leaving. "Just drop me off at Mom's, okay?"

"Lysa, honey, please listen-"

"I said drop me off at Mom's. I can't deal with this, or _with you _right now," Lysa huffed. Bruce sighed and turned the car around, back downtown.

Not another word was spoken for the remainder of the car ride, and as soon as Bruce dropped her off, she sped walked up the ten flights of stairs to Rachel's apartment and slammed the door behind her. She let out a long sigh and threw her backpack on the ground just outside her bedroom door. Who did Bruce think he was, to leave, _disappear, _for seven years and then expect Lysa to welcome him with open arms? Maybe that's how it would've happened it she had been thirteen when he returned. But she wasn't. She was seventeen. Hell, she had to apply to university in the winter.

Lysa took her mind off the events of the day by doing homework, and then watching four hours-worth of Grey's Anatomy while eating leftover pizza she'd ordered in yesterday. By nine the events of the day still weighed heavy in her mind, making her exhausted. Her mother still wasn't home. _Surprise, surprise_. Rachel must've got caught up with something. There was_ always _something.

Finally, she had to get some sleep. She quickly showered and put on her plaid pajama pants and white long-sleeve shirt and braided her damp hair. Lysa wrapped herself in her bead covers and tried to block out all of the thoughts spinning in her head.

She was asleep by the time her mother walked in the door.


	3. Chapter II

**Author's Note: Thanks to all those who reviewed, followed etc. Here's the next chapter, enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter Two

One day after Bruce's return.

**The next morning**, the sun shone brightly through the cracks of Lyssandra's blinds, waking her up. All that had happened the day before flew back into her mind like a wave crashing on the shore. She lied in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, deep in thought. _Was that it? Was she going to talk to Bruce again? _

The scent of pancakes and bacon wafted from the kitchen, rich and sweet. Lysa's brow furrowed in confusion. She checked her clock on the bedside table. It was nine a.m. Even on a Saturday, Rachel had to go into to work. She should've left by now. Lysa almost leaped out of her bed, and strode into the kitchen. Rachel was sitting on a stool and the island, staring at her phone.

"Mom?" Lysa asked. "I thought you'd be gone already."

"My boss let me come in a bit later," she smiled, making Lysa smile as well. She took a seat beside her other and scooped several pancakes and pieces of bacon on her plate which Rachel had set out for her. "So… what's the occasion?" Lysa asked, cutting into her pancakes. "I uh, I spoke with your father," she said, her expression changing dramatically. She now looked at Lysa with concern, tapping her nails on the granite countertop.

Lysa almost spat out the food from her mouth. "You… you did?"

"Yes. We talked for a while. He said that he picked you up from school, and you… weren't all that pleased," Rachel let her words come out slowly, as if she was afraid of how Lysa would react. "Well, yeah. I mean, he disappears for seven years without a trace, without even calling, and then shows up again expecting everything to be all fine and dandy!" Lysa cried, running her hand through her hair, most of which had come out of her braid. "I'm surprise that you're not angry." She took another bite of her breakfast.

Rachel sighed before speaking again, making Lysa take slower bites of her food, wondering what was going on through her mother's mind. _Was she angry at Bruce as well? _If she was, she did a damn good job at hiding it. "I think you should stay with your father for a few weeks, maybe a few months," she suggested, avoiding eye contact. Lyssandra's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Why?" she gasped. Her mother reached out and held her hand. "You two need to reconnect-"

"Hey, that's his fault. He _left."_

"I know, but it'll be good for you. He'll be able to drop you off at school, pick you up, eat with you… it'll be good," she reassured, but so far Lysa wasn't convinced. She stared at her food, suddenly having a loss of appetite. "Besides..." Rachel continued, "I'm getting more involved with work, I'm never home."

Lysa gave her mother a "hmm," raising her voice. "Yeah, you are never home," she said bitterly, turning away. "You and your father need to make amends, okay?" Rachel asked in frustration, running her hand through her hair. There was a small feeling deep down in Lysa's chest, itching to see Bruce again. There was truth to what her mother was saying, but Bruce acted as if nothing was wrong, like he hadn't even be _gone_. That's what hurt Lysa the most, and the fact she didn't know why he left. Maybe, _hopefully_, if she stayed with Bruce, she would find out the truth. Besides, it would be nice to have a parent who was around more than six hours a day.

"Fine," Lysa agreed, somewhat bitterly. Rachel smiled. "Thank you," she said. "It'll be good, I promise. Now finish your breakfast and then pack your bags."

"We're leaving today?" Lysa asked, stunned. "Yep, so hurry. I need to be at the office in four hours," Rachel replied, checking her watch.

* * *

It was an unusually warm day for October, and Lysa had the window of the car down as she and Rachel drove to the outskirts of Gotham, to Wayne Manor. In the back seat of the car, Lysa's ice-blue suitcase was packed with clothing, everything from her Nike swimsuit to her pink-chiffon dress she had worn the year before to her school's semi-formal. Two other boxes sat beside it, one was filled with her laptop, pictures of her and her friends and various cords and rechargers, and the other was filled with her favourite books. She would've brought them all if she could, but that would be two more boxes, and Rachel had a limit.

"No more than two boxes of stuff," she'd said just before making the trip downstairs with her suitcase. "You still have a place here, and if you need anything, you can always come back." Lyssandra rolled her eyes. "Yes I know," she called, trying to strategically fit another book into the box.

The streets of Gotham had a low, comforting hum of cars driving by, the click of shoes on the concrete sidewalk and of the indistict chatter of people going about their business. These were the sounds Lysa liked, the sounds she grew up with. It made Gotham feel safe, despite the growing crime rate Rachel always complained about.

The car turned off the high way to an empty road, and soon the Gotham skyline seemed as if it were only four feet tall. Green fields surrounded the road, with the oranges and yellows of the leaves changing colours. It was beautiful.

Wayne Manor came into view, and Lyssandra's heart skipped a beat. She'd only been inside the manor once in the past seven years, but it still felt like home. To someone else, the manor might seem intimidating, with its Victorian architecture, and tall windows lining the walls, staring at the open fields. But for her, it was perfect. She knew every inch of the manor, and her memory always helped her win when she and Bruce would play hide and seek. During one game, when Lysa was about seven, she'd decided to hide not in the house, but behind a two hundred year-old oak tree in the back yard. She waited and waited for Bruce to find her, it took hours. At first, Lysa had been overjoyed when she thought that she'd found the perfect hiding spot. Then, a few more hours went by and Bruce still hadn't found her. The sun was starting to set when she heard him calling. "Lysa!" Bruce's voice rang out through the grounds. "Lysa, where are you?!"

Lysa came out from behind the tree, at the sound of her father's voice. "I'm right here, daddy!" She called out at ran towards Bruce. His face lit up, but his eyes were shiny, just on the verge of tears. She ran straight into Bruce's arms, and he held her tighter than he'd ever done before. "Don't go too far from the house again, okay?" He whispered into her hair. "What's wrong, daddy?" She asked, looking into his eyes. "I thought I lost you, I was scared," he breathed. Lysa's lips curled into a smile. "But you found me." Bruce smiled, and pulled her back into another hug. "Yeah, I found you."

Rachel stopped the car in front of the main entrance, and Alfred was waiting on the top of the steps, hands folded in front of him. However, Bruce wasn't there. _Figures._ A small part of her wished he was, and she hated that part of her.

Lyssandra opened the passenger door and then grabbed the handle of her suitcase from the back seat. She turned to the entrance of the manor, and gave a bright smile to Alfred, who started walking down the stone steps. "Miss Wayne," he smiled, opening his arms. Lysa smiled back, letting go of her suitcase and hugging him. "I've missed you," she breathed. "As have I," he replied wholeheartedly. Lysa crossed her arms and gazed past Alfred, through the giant frosted glass doors behind him. "Bruce not here?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not, he had to step out for a moment, but he should be back soon." Lysa scoffed to herself, hoping Alfred didn't notice. "Come on, let's go inside and get you settled," he said, gesturing to the front doors. Lysa smiled, and grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

Alfred held opened the door for her and Rachel, who was carrying one of the boxes. As Lysa stepped into the manor, she took in a deep breath. The faint scent of lemon furniture polish made its way to her nose, and she smiled a bit. Before Bruce had left, the house always smelled of lemon and whatever was cooking in the kitchen. Lysa, Alfred and Rachel made their way through the main hallway to the grand staircase, that's what she used to call it. Every year on her birthday, she would walk down the staircase in a fancy dress and wave, like a princess. Alfred and Bruce would be smiling and taking pictures.

The steps creaked as they walked up, and Lysa could see dust in the sunlight coming through the windows. Some of the furniture was still covered in white sheets, making the place seem abandoned in a way. Bruce was probably taking the sheets off the rest of the furniture, or maybe in grandpa and grandmama's old room, or maybe he wasn't here at all.

The hallway outside her room was lined with artwork and sculptures her grandparents had acquired. Some where covered with sheets, but other were exposed to the sunlight flowing through the windows. The colours were faded, turning to pastel shades. Lysa remembered them as they were before Bruce left, the oil shining off the canvas in the sun.

Alfred opened the door to her room, and they stepped in. It was substantially larger than her room in Rachel's apartment. The walls were still lavender, and the book case was still filled with all of her old children's books. One book was missing from the shelf. _Goodnight Moon _lay on the end of her bed. Her bed was made without a wrinkle, though she could still see the tiny drops of hot chocolate that had stained the gray comforter two years earlier. The door to her walk-in closet was open slightly, and she could see the bare racks and cubbies that once housed her ten year-old clothes. Lysa walked over to the dresser and opened the drawers. Some of them still had old clothing and toys. "We're going to have to go through all this stuff," Alfred commented, gazing around the room. "Yeah," Rachel said, setting down the box at the end of the bed. "We couldn't take most of it when you moved in the apartment," she added, as if Lysa had forgotten. "Oh, you cried and cried when you couldn't take all your books." Rachel gazed at the short book case by the window. "And you haven't changed," Rachel smiled.

Lysa laughed out of embarrassment, but what her mother said was true. She loved her books, and hopefully they would all fit on the book case. "Speaking of which, I'll go down and get the last box, and then I have to go to work. I'm already late as it is," Rachel said, exiting the room hastily. "I forgot what it was like to have my own bathroom and walk-in closet," Lysa commented, walking into the en-suite bathroom. The cream and black towels were neatly folded, hanging on the towel rack, and her favourite terry-cloth bathrobe hung on the door, though it was too small for her now.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it pretty quick," Alfred replied, chuckling. She had to admit, she _did _miss life at Wayne Manor. It was nice having so much more space than her mother's apartment. Lysa stepped back out into her room and gazed out the window. Somewhere deep down she hoped that Bruce would be just outside, and see her and smile. But she pushed the feeling away. Bruce wasn't even here to meet her.

Lysa started unpacking the box, taking her laptop out and realizing there was no desk to put it on. "I think I'll need a desk to do homework and stuff," she said, looking up at Alfred. "I think that can be arranged," he smiled.

Rachel returned to her room with the box of books, looking slightly winded. "Well if that's it, I should be getting to work," Rachel said, putting down the box and hugging Lysa. "Be nice to your father," she whispered. Lysa groaned a little while Rachel kissed the top of her head and left. "I'll let you get settled in," Alfred said. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Alfred," Lysa replied. After Alfred left, she placed her laptop on her bed, and put _Goodnigh Moon _on top of it. Once she unzipped her suitcase, the top practically popped off. She started taking out her sweaters and tee-shirts and the occasional dress and hung them in her closet with the stack of wooden hangers that were in a pile in the corner.

By the time half of her suit case was unpacked, there was a knock at the door. It must be Alfred. "Alfred, where do you suppose I should put all this old stuff..." she said as she raised her head towards the door. But it wasn't Alfred.

It was Bruce.

And she thought he wouldn't show up. "And he finally makes an appearance," Lysa said bitterly, crossing her arms and sitting on the foot for her bed. "Sorry, I got... caught up with something," he said nonchalantly. "_Surprise, surprise,_" Lysa pursed her lips. Bruce sighed deeply and sat down next to her on the bed. "I know I'm not 'Dad of the year' but I've missed you, so much. I've thought about you every day for the past seven years. When I left, I was being selfish. But I'm back now, for as long as it takes-"

"Bruce, all I want from you is the truth. Why you left, where you were, why you came back. All I've heard are rumours and rumours and rumours. For seven years," tears welled up in Lysa's eyes, and sweat developed on her palms. "I thought that you left because of me, or Mom-"

"No, that is definitely _not _true. I'm so sorry you heard those rumours. Don't _ever _think that I left because of you or your mother," Bruce said and reached out to hold her hand. Lysa jerked away. "I get that you're sorry, I know you're sorry. But the fact is, you _left. _You disappeared for seven years. I lived with Mom for seven years. And even's that's not true. Mom was, _is, _so wrapped up in her job that she was never home. The first thing she did when you left was hire a nanny because she couldn't take me to school, make my lunch or tuck me in at night. For seven years, in wasn't you, it wasn't Mom, it was a nanny. So yeah, everything can't go back to the way it was, and _I'm sorry _if _you_ think that," Lysa confessed. She was crying now, her warm tears rolling down her cheeks and catching on her lips.

"I know everything can't go back to the way it was, but I'm willing to try, if you are," Bruce looked into her eyes, and kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you come with me to Wayne Enterprises tomorrow?" He suggested. "You know they declared you 'dead', right?" She said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Well, now they can declare me 'not dead'," he replied, as if he could make everything right with just his word. Sure, she might have laughed at the remark at a different time, if things were normal, but they weren't. "You're just going to walk in take back the company? Good luck with that," she scoffed. "Don't worry, I have a plan. I'll work my way from the bottom up if I have to," Bruce said, with sincerity to Lysa's surprise.

Bruce kneeled in front of Lysa, taking her hands in his. His gray-blue eyes stared at hers, and she could help but feel _a little _guilty, even though it was Bruce who should feel guilty. "I really want to make things better, Lysa. Please," he squeezed her hands, like the way he did seven years ago. Bruce _did _feel guilty. Lysa sighed. "Fine," she agreed, "I'll go with you. Besides, it would be nice for _Wayne _Enterprises to be run by a member of the _Wayne _family."


	4. Chapter III

**Author's Note: Thank you for the lovely reviews! :) ALSO, please note that I changed some of the events in the movie to fit with the story (no major changes, just the time in which events take place). **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Three

Two days after Bruce's return.

**"You've **_**got **_**to** be kidding me," Lyssandra gasped as she stood on the field behind Wayne Manor, in front of a helicopter. "What, the Ferrari on Friday wasn't enough?" Bruce laughed beside her. "Well, you know me. I always like to make an entrance," he flashed a smile to her. "That's what I'm worried about," Lysa mumbled, though she knew Bruce could hear her. "Come on," Bruce squeezed her hand. "It'll be be fun."

Lysa and Bruce strode onto the helicopter, Bruce steeping up first and then helping Lysa up. He handed a pair of ear muffs. She took them rather hesitantly, but put them on after Bruce gave her an encouraging look. She buckled her seat belt, after two failed attempts, and soon the helicopter started whirring loudly, even with the earmuffs, and they were in the air, approaching the Gotham City skyline.

Last night, after she'd agreed to accompany Bruce to Wayne Industries, he'd promised to get her room new furniture, although she still liked most of it, and then left the room. Honestly, she hadn't known what to expect after that conversation. Would they eat dinner together? Turned out that they hadn't. Alfred made her ravioli and said Bruce was out busy, whatever that meant.

It had been nice to sleep in her old bed again; it still smelled of the Snuggle fabric softener that the covers were washed with. In the morning, she was greeted by Alfred and a plate of chocolate chip waffles, her childhood favourite. Then, two hours later they were in a helicopter on their way to Wayne Enterprises.

"So, where were you last night?" Lysa asked. It seemed like she was screaming over the whirring of the helicopter. "You missed Alfred's ravioli." Bruce smiled. "I had to take care of something," he told her vaguely. "You with your secrets," she muttered. Lysa didn't think he had heard her comment, but he smirked. Maybe one day he would explain everything, hopefully.

Only a few minutes later the helicopter touched down on the helipad at the Wayne Enterprises headquarters. Lysa had to admit, the helicopter was much more convenient than driving. She unbuckled her seat belt and handed the pilot her ear muffs. The air was cool when she stepped out beside her father, it pricked at her cheeks. She pulled her leather jacket tighter around her chest as Bruce led her inside the building.

Memories flashed in her head of when Bruce had taken her to Wayne Enterprises when she was younger – before he left. The sleek gray walls and glass doors were all too familiar, even though she hadn't stepped foot in the building since Bruce left. However there weren't as many employees hurrying from office to office as she remembered. But when she and Bruce passed employees typing away at their computers, they would stop and stare as the Waynes past. More staring, more whispering. It was staring to drive Lysa insane.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," she mumbled as they stepped onto an elevator taking them even higher – to the main board room. "What?" Bruce chuckled. "All the staring, whispering. It's driving me crazy," she replied, leaning against the cool railing of the elevator. "That's what comes with being a Wayne," he sighed, as if he was tired of the attention as well. She couldn't blame him, but Bruce dealt with it way better than Lysa ever could. "Yeah, well I didn't ask for it," she said rather bitterly, but a moment later wished the words hadn't come out of her mouth. Bruce said exactly what she was thinking – "I didn't either."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Lysa and Bruce strode to a desk just outside the board room, where a young brown-haired woman was typing away. She didn't look up when Bruce spoke. "Good morning, I'm here to see Mr. Earle," he said in his smooth, professional tone. "Name?" the woman spoke dryly. He leaned against the desk and smiled. "Bruce Wayne. And guest Lyssandra Wayne." The woman's head immediately shot up in surprise. She stared at Lysa and Bruce for a moment before doing anything.

When the woman finally spoke to Bruce, he went from businessman to playboy in ten seconds. The two talked until his arms were around her, showing her how to putt a golf ball along the carpet. Lysa stood to the side awkwardly, wishing she had her book to distract her.

The door of the office leading to the board room burst open suddenly, making her jump. It was Mr. Earle, the man running Wayne Enterprises. His expression was hard. He paid no attention to her or Bruce, whose back was turned to him. "Jessica, who's answering the phones?" he yelled impatiently. Bruce turned around, smirking. "It's Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Earle. I'm sure they'll call back."

Mr. Earle stood in place, dumbstruck. But he must've seen the news, he knew Bruce had returned. Maybe he, or anybody else for that matter, didn't expect he'd actually showed up at the company. "Bruce?" was all the businessman could say. Lysa could see other employees in the board meeting peering into the room from their chairs, eager to see what was going on. "We… we thought you were dead. We thought that you weren't going to come."

"Sorry to disappoint," Bruce replied, obviously happy that he pissed off the man who was running his company. Mr. Earle walked back into the board room and told the employees to take a break, then invited Lysa and Bruce in. "Nice to see you again, Lyssandra," Mr. Earle said as she entered the massive room. "It's been a while."

"Yes it has," Lysa replied. Mr. Earle quickly turned to Bruce. "You realize, Bruce, that it's too late to stop the public offering–"

"I understand," Bruce told him. "I'll be handsomely rewarded for my shares. I'm not here to interfere – I'm just looking for a job. I just want to get to know the company my family built."

"Any idea where you'd start?"

"Applied Sciences caught my eye." Mr. Earle's eyebrows raised in surprise. Lysa was just as surprised as well. _What did Bruce know about applied sciences?_ "Mr. Fox's department? Perfect, I'll make the call."

Five minutes later, Lysa and Bruce were on the elevator again, descending the numerous floors to the basement where the Applies Sciences division was located. Mr. Earle wanted to escort them, but Bruce insisted that he could find the way. "Why Applied Sciences?" Lysa asked, tapping her fingers against her crossed arms. "I thought you wanted to take back the company."

"You were right – everything can't go back to the way it was. So I'm going to start with Mr. Fox and get to know my family's company," he said. Deep down, Lysa felt a pang in her chest. Bruce, her father, he knew she was right. He really _was _trying to make things better. But the memory of him leaving without a trace floated into her mind. It still bothered her how he was obviously keeping secrets from her, how he wouldn't tell her why he left or where he went or why he came back. It tugged at her every day.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a large, open, fluorescent-lit room that resembled a warehouse more than anything. Stacks of crates and metal boxes were scattered everywhere, and white sheets covered large objects, reminding her of Wayne Manor. A tall, dark-skinned man, Mr. Fox presumably, sat at a desk reading a stack of papers. It all seemed familiar to Lysa. Then she remembered that she'd been down her before, when she was eight. Bruce had given her a tour of practically the whole building. "This might all be yours someday," he had said. Nothing about the room had changed, the boxes and crates where still there, and same with the mysteriously-covered objects.

When Mr. Fox saw them approaching, he stood up and shook both their hands. "Environmental applications, defense projects, consumer products…" he gestured to the crates and boxes, "all prototypes, none in production at any level whatsoever."

"None?" Bruce asked, surprised. _If none these products were being produced, what was Mr. Fox doing? _"Did they tell you what this place was?" Mr. Fox asked. Bruce shook his head. "They didn't tell me anything."

"Earle told me exactly _what _it was when he sent me here… a dead end where I couldn't cause any more trouble for the rest of the board."

"You were on the board?"

"Back when your father ran things," Mr. Fox sighed. Bruce pressed on with questions. "You knew my father?" Mr. Fox smiled. "Oh, sure. Helped him build his train." He turned to a box and opened it, pulling out what looked like climbing equipment. They two quickly fell into conversation, and Lysa slipped away to explore more of the room. It mostly the same-looking boxes over and over again. But a huge object covered by a white dust-cover in the corner of the room caught her eye. It almost looked like the outline of a tank.

Lysa slowly lifted the corner of the cover, peering under it. She couldn't quite make out what it was, but it looked strangely familiar.

"Ready to go?" Bruce's voice chirped from behind her. Lysa quickly dropped the cover, concealing the tank-like object. She nodded.

"That was pretty quick," Lysa noted as they entered the elevator. "I just wanted to check out a few things. And besides, I work here now, I can see this stuff every day."

"I don't suppose you'll tell _why _you chose Applied Sciences."

"Mr. Fox supplies products that I'm interested in," Bruce replied vaguely. Lysa didn't expect anything else. "Now," he said as the elevator door opened to the main lobby of the building. "Let's find you some new furniture for your room."

* * *

By nine o'clock that night, Lysa and Bruce finished building a new desk and a new bookcase for her room. The bookcase now housed all the books she'd brought from her mother's apartment as well as her old children's books. They'd bolted it to the wall by her bed, while they placed the new desk in a small alcove of the room. Bruce even got about one hundred dollars' worth of stationary and supplies. It almost felt as if she'd never left Wayne Manor to live with her mother.

"So, how did we do?" Bruce asked between a bit of his grilled cheese sandwich. They been working non-stop since they got back, they didn't stop to have dinner. Alfred noticed eventually and brought up sandwiches and glasses of lemonade. "I love it," Lysa replied, taking a big sip of lemonade. "It feels even more like home."

The sun had already set over the horizon, and the night sky filled with twinkling stars. During the summer, she and Bruce always used to lie on the lawn behind the manor, just staring up at the night sky. Wayne Manor was far enough from the city that its light didn't drown out the shining stars. Another thing she missed when she moved to the city, to her mother's apartment.

"Let's bring these boxes downstairs," Bruce said, finishing off his sandwich. "Then you should get some sleep. You'll need it to face the day tomorrow." _Oh right, school. _Lysa clenched her teeth at the thought. But she knew Mason and Alexa would help her through it, which comforted her thoughts.

"It could drive you," Bruce suggested as they walked down the grand staircase, carrying the cardboard boxes Lysa's furniture came it. "Pardon?" Lysa asked, a bit distracted by the looming thought of school the next day. "I could drive you to school," Bruce repeated. "Really?" Lysa cocked her head in surprise. "Sure, I'd be happy to," he said. Lysa smiled. "Okay, thanks," she paused. "But not in that Ferrari, right? Or a helicopter, or whatever other million-dollar vehicle you have stored away somewhere." Bruce laughed, the same laugh since she was a child. "No, I'll choose something a little less spontaneous."

"Bruce Wayne, not being spontaneous? I didn't think that was possible," Lysa joked. Bruce laughed with her. "I'll let you keep a low profile as long as you want, until you're comfortable." Lysa's cheeks warmed as she smiled. "Sounds good."


	5. Chapter IV

**Author's note: Thanks again for the lovely reviews****! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Four

Lysa's first day of school since Bruce's return.

**It turned out **that the least spontaneous car Bruce owned was a red Audi R8. Lysa sighed, but it was the best she could hope for as she slipped into the sleek leather passenger's seat the next morning. What was she thinking? Of course Bruce Wayne didn't own anything that even remotely resembled her mother's six year-old Camry, or the train she'd been taking to school every day.

The car's engine rumbled to life, and she and Bruce sped away out the open garage. It was almost eight o'clock. Normally she would be at school by now. Most of the car trip was silent; Lysa spent most of the time fiddling with the zippers on her blue Jansport backpack. The vast grounds of Wayne Manor receded behind them, until they disappeared completely, and the Gotham City skyline grew. "Will this be a daily thing?" Lysa asked, gazing out the window. They passed a Starbucks where a few girls from her school were sitting on the patio. "It you want it to be," Bruce replied, giving her a small smile. "Besides, I don't know how you'll get to the train from the manor."

"That's true," Lysa replied softly. Maybe this was a good thing. Besides, she wouldn't have to wait and get on that rickety, graffiti-ridden train. For some strange reason, Lysa was only now seeing how different her life was with her father than with her mother. Rachel hadn't even called or texted since she left her at Bruce's.

The car rounded the corner to the street in front of her school. Students milled around the lawn out front, drinking coffee, reading, doing homework, talking in their hushed circles. But they all seemed to stop and stare when Bruce pulled up. Lysa didn't expect any less than that. Almost all the children from rich families attended private schools more uptown, while Gotham Central was just like any other public school, not used to students pulling up in cars worth over five hundred thousand dollars. Well, it was better than the schools in the Narrows, at least it got decent funding from the school board.

Lysa sat anxiously in the passenger's seat, not ready to get out. "Are you ever going to tell me why you left, where you went?" The words fell out of her mouth when she hadn't expected them to. But she couldn't stop herself.

Bruce sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. "I will tell you, someday," he whispered, kissing the top her head. "I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," Lysa smirked, just about to exit the car. Bruce smiled in return. "I know you will."

Lysa exited the car into the cool October air, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. She made her way across the lawn, through what felt like a sea of staring eyes, into the main hall of the school. When she got to her locker, Mason and Alexa were already there, waiting for her. "Where have you been? You haven't texted or messaged the whole weekend." Alexa said as Lysa twisted her combination lock. "It got a ride… from my father," she said hesitantly. It felt weird to say. She hadn't used those words in seven years. "You what?" Mason asked, taken aback. "You heard what I said," Lysa told him, taking out her chemistry and exercise science textbooks from the top shelf of her locker. "I'm sort of… living with him now."

Mason and Alexa stared at each other in shock, then gazed back to her. "Hey, don't look at me. It was my mother's idea," Lysa defended. "Well how is it?" was all Alexa could say. "It's fine, maybe even great. He got me new furniture and stuff for my room and everything."

"Well, we are happy that things are working out between you and Bruce," Mason said, eyeing Alexa. "He still won't tell me why left or where he disappeared to for seven years," Lysa mumbled, closing her locker. "Just give him some time," Alexa reassured. "He'll come around eventually."

* * *

The rest of the morning and lunch pasted as normal. Although, everyone seemed to pay more attention to her, even the teachers. Lysa was thankful when her free period after lunch came around, where she sat in her favourite spot on the lawn in the front of school and got started on her chemistry homework. But it didn't last for long. When she got halfway through her textbook readings, a group of four boys from her grade approached her. "You Bruce's Wayne's kid?" The tall boy in front asked. Lysa stared at them, annoyed. _What did these people want? _"Yeah, so?" She said, trying to shrug them off. She turned back to her textbook, which was darkened by the boys' shadows. "My parents used to work for his company, but they got laid off when he disappeared," the same boy said. "I'm sorry to hear that," was all she could say in response. "Their names are Harry and Jo Walker," he continued. That's when she realized what the boy was getting at. The breeze felt colder all of a sudden, sending shivers down her spine. "You want me to tell my father to give them their jobs back?" She cried. "I can't do that. My father doesn't even really work for the company anymore."

"It's your dad's name on the building, isn't it?" Another boy asked. He was shorter than the rest, with bleach-blond hair.

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothing. Get my parents their jobs back." Lysa took a deep breath. "I already told you, I can't do that." The boy, Walker, drew closer, his face within inches of hers. "You _will,_" he hissed. Lysa looked around, trying to find a way out. She could run into the school, to the office. The entrance was just behind her, up a short flight of stone steps.

Lysa's feet immediately sprang into action, running to the school entrance, but she wasn't fast enough. Walker's hand caught her wrist, which sent her falling on the steps. A yelp escaped her mouth as her free arm broke her fall, but was scraped badly. Blood trickled down her arm, dripping onto the pavement. The world felt as if it were spinning – did she hit her head against the steps? But she couldn't focus on that now, all she could focus on was Walker's grip on her wrist. He twisted her limb against her back, and Lysa couldn't help but cry out. "You _will _get my parents their jobs back," Walker hissed in her ear. "We're on the verge of bankruptcy because of you, because of _your father._"

She shut her eyes tight and tried kick him off. Then her foot shot backwards into his body, she couldn't tell where. There was a sharp yelp, and the pressure on her arm was released, and she quickly shot up and ran up the steps of the school and bolted through the entrance. The boys didn't follow her, which wasn't surprising. They knew she was going to the office. She only hoped the school administration could keep them away from her. Walker hadn't gotten what he wanted, and by the looks of it, he wouldn't give up that easily.

* * *

Half an hour later, Lysa was sitting in the principal's office, holding an ice back to her swollen wrist. Light purple bruises were already starting to form where Walker held her. She'd washed away the blood on her other arm, and the nurse had wrapped it in gauze.

A moment later the door opened, and Bruce strode in with a frantic look on his face. "Lyssandra, are you okay?" he breathed, pulling her in for a hug. "I'm fine," she replied quietly. "She had a run-in with a few boys and things got violent," the principal, Ms. Juniper chimed in. Bruce sat down on the seat across from her desk. Lysa sat down beside him, and he took her hand in his and squeezed gently. "What did they want?" Bruce asked, turning to her. "It was stupid…" she breathed. "The guy, Walker, his parents used to work at Wayne Enterprises. He wanted me to get you to give them their jobs back."

"He… what?"

"The boy's name is Kyle Walker. The boys that were with him are Jack Matthews, Greg Peterson and Aidan Yeller," Ms. Juniper said. "Rest assured, Mr. Wayne that these boys have been suspended for a week."

"Only a week? These boys threatened my daughter!" Bruce raised his voice. "Bruce," Lysa tried to calm him down, but Ms. Juniper beat her to it. "Mr. Wayne, I understand you are very upset, as are we, but the administration can't do anything more at the moment. However, you can file a restraining order or-"

"That won't be necessary," Lysa interjected. Bruce let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "If it's okay, I'll take Lysa home," he said, giving her hand another squeeze. "That won't be a problem," Ms. Juniper said. "I'll have your teachers send you your work. Hope to see you back here tomorrow." Lysa gave her a weak smile. "Thanks, Ms. Juniper."

Lysa slipped into her father's Audi, stiffly. When she buckled her seatbelt with her scratched arm, it sent waves of sharp pain through her when she moved. They were nearing the edge of the city when either of them spoke up. "Lyssandra, I'm so sorry," Bruce said, shutting his eyes for a quick moment before gazing back at the road. "I had no idea my return would cause something like this." Lysa didn't know how to feel about her father's part in this, but for some reason, she couldn't be mad at him. Not when his eyes were shiny with tears. "It's not your fault," Lysa replied. But she knew that Bruce still blamed himself. "If those boys _ever _harm you, or threaten you again, tell me, okay?"

Lysa almost laughed despite the situation. "What are you going to do? Talk to their parents?" Bruce gravely stared at the road in front of him. "I don't know, Lysa. But I won't let them hurt you, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Lysa said, more bitterly than she would've liked. But what was Bruce going to do? Follow her around all day? File a restraining order? She didn't know how Bruce would reply. "Sorry," she muttered quickly, feeling guilty about her last comment. Only two little words escaped Bruce's mouth.

"Don't worry."

As the Audi pulled up to the manor, Alfred rushed out the door. He probably didn't expect them to be back so soon. "Master Wayne, I didn't expect you to be back for a few hours," he said. Bruce opened the door for Lysa, and she stiffly got out, clutching her backpack. "My god, Lysa, what happened?" Alfred cried, observing her injuries. "She had a run-in with some boys from her school," Bruce answered. "I'm fine, Alfred," she replied. "Just sore, and tired."

"Why don't you lie down on your bed and I'll bring you a cup of your favourite tea?" Lysa couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Alfred."

Lysa instantly felt fifty times better when she took a sip of the honey-sweetened peppermint tea. It warmed her body, and seemed to relax her muscles. Alfred changed the gauze around her scraped arm, and wiped rubbing alcohol over the wounds. When Alfred left, her phone beside her on the bed chimed. It was a text from Alexa. _Are you okay? _Lysa replied quickly. _I'm fine. Do people know what happened already? _A few seconds later, Alexa replied. _Rumours spread fast around Gotham Central. Besides, people are going to talk when they see Bruce Wayne walk in and try to find the office._ Lysa laughed when she pictured Bruce running around the school trying to find the office. She took another sip of her tea. It was hot against her lips, almost burning her, but she didn't care. _The boys have been suspended, everything's fine, _Lysa replied. Alexa's text came five seconds later. _Okay, well you can't come to school pretending like nothing's happened. _Alexa was right, she couldn't. All she could hope for was that it would blow over within the week. _Don't worry. I'm pretty tired, see you tomorrow,_ Lysa replied. _Okay, _was all Alexa texted back. Lysa put her phone on the bedside table and let her head fall to her pillow. Within ten minutes she was asleep.

* * *

When she woke up, the rays of light from the sun could be seen over the horizon. The sky turning a bright orange that faded into navy blue. Lysa looked at her clock. It was just after eight p.m. Then she heard the footsteps of two people just outside her room, then becoming fainter as they headed down the stairs. _Must be Bruce and Alfred. _She opened her door slowly and walked out the hallway to the stairs. Bruce and Alfred were deep in conversation, and Lysa stopped dead when she heard Bruce. "This happened because of me, Alfred," his voice drifted from down the stairs. "How can I protect so many people, but not the person I love most?" Lysa's brow furrowed. _Who were "so many people" that Bruce was supposedly protecting? _She shook her head and raced back to her room.

Ten minutes later, Alfred opened her door. "Dinner's prepared," he said. "Where's Bruce?" Lysa asked, getting up from her bed. "He had to run out, do some stuff at the office," he replied. She couldn't help but have a disappointed look. His words still loomed in her head. _How can I protect so many people? _And then, _but not the person I love most. _It made her shudder slightly. But she pushed the words away, and joined Alfred for dinner.


	6. Chapter V

Chapter Five

Four days after Walker's threat

**A strange newspaper **headline greeted Lyssandra Friday morning at breakfast. _Masked Vigilante Seen at the Docks, _read the big bold letters. _What the hell? _The picture beneath the headline was dark and blurry, but Lysa could make out the outline of the vigilante. She read more of the article. People were calling him the "Batman." Lysa scoffed as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. _Who was this guy? _She shook her head and pushed the paper away.

The week had passed without any incident, which Lysa was grateful for. The staring and whispering had died down. People even seemed to forget the whole incident with Walker, but he and his friends would be back on Monday. Hopefully she could avoid them. She looked back at the newspaper, and then pulled out her phone and called her mother. If anyone knew more this vigilante, it was her.

Rachel picked up the phone on the third ring. _"Hello?" _she answered, sounding like she was in a rush. "Hey Mom, have you seen the paper this morning? Do you know anything about this vigilante-Batman-person?" Lysa asked between mouthfuls of cereal. There was silence from Rachel on the other end, which seemed to last forever. Lysa waited in anticipation. _"Actually… I've met him,"_ she replied.

_"You what?!" _Lysa practically screamed into the phone. Her bowl of cereal almost spilt over the counter. "When? Where? How?" A million questions filled her head. _"Last night. It's a long story, but I think he's trying to help the city."_

"What do you mean?"

_"Well, he did help arrest Falcone, and he gave me some photos… I don't have time to get into right down. But you don't have to worry about the Batman."_

"But Mom-" Lysa pressed, staring at the picture in the newspaper. _"It's okay, Lysa. Have a good day at school." _Rachel cut her off before abruptly hanging up. Lysa hated it when she did that. All the questions still filled her head. But her thoughts came to a halt when Alfred entered the kitchen. "Morning, Miss Wayne," he chirped. "Morning," she replied. "Master Wayne had a late night, and he's still sleeping, so I'll drive you to school."

Lysa nodded. "Thanks, Alfred." Then something clicked in her head. She gazed back to the news article, her brow furrowing. _A late night. _She quickly shook off the feeling. It was ridiculous. Bruce couldn't be this Batman person, he couldn't. Could he?

* * *

"And then Will got up and started to teach…" Alexa drawled on as Lysa took out her textbooks from her locker. She was talking about some kid from her psychology class or something… she couldn't pay attention long enough to keep up. The newspaper article from that morning still loomed in her head. "Lysa, are you okay?" Alexa asked, pulling her out of her distracted trance. "Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about that news article this morning," she said, closing her locker. "What? About the Batman or whatever?" Mason asked, scoffing. "He's probably just some nut who escaped from Arkham Asylum." She ran her hand through her hair, and then groaned, realizing she messed up the side part she spent ten minutes trying to perfect before leaving for school.

"Yeah, you're right," Lysa nodded. "Besides, you got more important things to think about," Alexa said, nudging her. _She did? _Lysa gave her friend a confused look. "Like what?" she asked. Alexa sighed, frustrated. "Like how Emerson in chem has been staring at you admiringly for the past week."

"He has?" Lysa gripped her textbooks a little tighter. Emerson Gerald was pretty cute she had to admit… with his piercing honey eyes and perfectly-combed black hair and how he always wore cute sweater vests. "Uh, yes!" Alexa said. Before Lysa could reply, three girls approached them. It was Juliet Riley and her friends… Eryn and Laura… or something like that. She never paid attention to them. Juliet's parents' were super rich, but they still sent her to public school. Something about not spoiling her. However that didn't stop her from trying to keep everyone in the school under her thumb. Juliet handed her a crisp, cream-coloured envelope. Lysa's name was written on it in perfect calligraphy. "What's this?" Lysa asked her. The girls behind Juliet looked like they were trying very hard not to glare at her. "An invite to my birthday party tonight," Juliet said, as it were obvious. "It would be great if you were there."

Lysa practically laughed. Of the four years they'd gone to school together, Juliet was only noticing her know. But what the hell… it could be fun. Besides, she needed a distraction from all the spinning questions haunting her brain. "Yeah, sure," Lysa replied. She could practically feel Alexa and Mason shoot her looks of confusion. "Great!" Juliet clapped. "Oh," Lysa added, "can I bring guests?" "Yeah, sure. It's at the Ritz Carlton hotel, eight p.m. sharp," Juliet said before marching off down the hall with her friends.

"Can you tell me what that was all about?" Mason asked, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I mean, you _hate _those kinds of people, even though, you kind of are one," Alexa said. "I'm not like Juliet Riley!" Lysa cried. "But… I need a break from all this week's drama. And besides, if Bruce can leave at night for hours on end, why can't I?" Mason and Alexa just gave each other blank stares. "Come on, guys!" Lysa practically pleaded. Finally they gave in. "Fine," Mason grumbled. "But not for too long." Lysa nodded her head in agreement. "Three hours tops, and we can get ready at my place," she said, as if "her place" wasn't a sprawling mansion. "Wayne Manor?" Alexa said excitingly. "Hell yeah!"

* * *

Lysa, Alexa and Mason arrived at the Ritz Carlton in Gotham just after eight. Lysa was wearing a mid-length deep purple ruffled dress, with silver sparkles on the bodice. Alexa was adorned in a full-length one-shoulder crimson dress, which she kept the tags on so she could return it the next day. Mason was in dark jeans, navy blazer, dress shirt and navy tie. Lysa and Alexa had gone shopping right after school; it was the most fun she'd had in what felt like a long time.

Alfred had been skeptical at first when Lysa'd told him they were going to a party, but she eventually convinced him to let her go, after bringing up the point that Bruce was out at night a lot. His words from that morning played in her head, _a late night… _then the picture of the Batman flashed. She shrugged off the feeling and gazed around the bright lobby of the hotel. People in formalwear and business suits milled around, checking their phones and talking quietly. The faux waterfall by the check-in desk splashed calmly, strangely relaxing Lysa.

They stood by the entrance awkwardly for a minute, looking for where Juliet's party was taking place. Finally, Lysa saw a few seniors from her school in the bar across the lobby. _Did they get special entrance? Most of them where only seventeen. _"Over there!" Alexa said, matching her gaze. Mason groaned. He wasn't a party person. Lysa and Alexa were probably going to have to force him to go to prom. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled. Lysa giggled. "Come on, this'll be fun," she said, linking her arm in his. "Yeah, whatever. But you owe me."

"Alright," she said, pulling him towards to the bar. "How do these people get in?" Mason asked, glaring at the bar. Lysa rolled her eyes. "Just don't ask questions. You don't have to drink if you don't want to. I'm not, I hate alcohol," she said, remembering the Christmases and New Year's parties since high school when her family always offered her a glass of wine or beer. The first time the bitter liquid reached her mouth, she'd hated it. But every year since she'd tried it again, thinking that this time would be different, and every year it still tasted bitter and unpalatable. Her family kept telling her that alcohol was an acquired taste, but so far her taste for alcohol hadn't changed one bit.

"Lysa's right, Mason. Besides, we don't ever get to do anything like this," Alexa agreed, helping to tug him across the lobby. When they reached the bar, Juliet spotted them. "Lysa! You made it!" Juliet chirped, approaching them. "Happy birthday," Lysa said, pulling out a gift card for Louis Vuitton she'd gotten when they'd been shopping. "It's from all three of us." Juliet took the card and stared at it. Lysa couldn't tell if she was pleased or disappointed. "Thanks," Juliet said before sauntering away to join her friends. "Well that went well," Alexa commented. "Yeah, actually," Lysa agreed. "Now, I'm in desperate need for a lemon San Pellegrino."

They'd been in the bar for an hour and a half when Mason looked like going to go insane. "Mason, just relax," Lysa said, taking a sip of her second glass of San Pellegrino. "Have a coke, talk to someone, do _something._" He was sitting with her at the bar, staring at the bottles of alcohol that lined the bar wall. There seemed to be hundreds, some that Lysa had never even heard of. "I'll just be glad when we leave," he muttered. She scoffed, and then felt a light tap on her shoulder. When she turned around, she was surprised to see the slim face of Emerson Gerald. _He was friends with Juliet? _"Lyssandra?" he asked, the perfect mix of uncertainty and confidence. "Want to dance?" Lysa smiled and handed her drink to Mason. "Sure."

He took her hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. A low-tempo song played over the speakers. She wrapped her arms his shoulders and he placed his hands on her waist. They started to sway back and forth, in beat with the song. "I didn't know you liked going to these things," Emerson spoke up, breaking the silence between them. "I don't mind them, but I just need to get away from the week," she said, gazing down at her feet. "_I _didn't know _you _liked these things," she added, giving him a questioning look. Emerson just shrugged. "Yeah well, Juliet's my cousin, so I'm kind of obligated to be here," he said. "Her cousin?" Lysa asked, not thinking before the words came out of her mouth. She looked down, slightly embarrassed. He caught her embarrassment and gave her a reassuring smile. "Yep. My mother's brother's daughter."

"Well, what would you be doing, if you didn't have to be here?" She asked, changing the subject. "I would… be at home, on the couch, watching Netflix. Maybe some Sherlock, or a little Grey's Anatomy." When he laughed, his face lit up, and Lysa couldn't help but stare into his honey eyes. "Sounds perfect," she replied, almost a whisper. "Maybe we should do that sometime," he said. Her heart almost skipped a beat. "Sure," was all she could utter before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, facing Alexa who was staring past her. Her champagne glass wobbled in her hand. _How much did she drink?_ Before she could asked if she was alright, Alexa pointed to something behind her. "Is that your father?" she asked.

Lysa whirled around, followed Alexa's gaze and scoffed. At the restaurant across from them, Bruce Wayne stood with two tall blond women under his arms talking to Mr. Earle. _What the hell was he doing? _"Sorry, Emerson. I, uh, have to go." He followed her gaze and understood. "No problem," he said. As she made her way to the restaurant, Alexa was trying to keep up with her. "Alexa," she said, sounding more frustrated than she wanted. "Go find Mason and get a cab back home." Alexa slumped back to the bar.

By the time Lysa made to the restaurant, the women Bruce had brought were in the decorative pool, _swimming. _Well, they were almost skinny dipping. She let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm buying this hotel," she heard her father say. He was talking to a maître d', writing a cheque. She couldn't believe this. "And I'm making some new rules for the pool area," he added before striding to the pool and falling into it with the women. Lysa shook her head. _Unbelievable. _

It took Bruce half an hour to get out of the pool and into hotel robes. Lysa sat on a plush seat in the lobby waiting for him to exit. When he did, the women still under his arms, she marched towards him. "What the hell were you doing?" she asked, trying restrain from shouting. Bruce looked at her, stunned and then told the women to get a room in the hotel which he paid for. When they were gone, his billionaire demeanor was gone as well. "Talking to Mr. Earle," he replied coolly. "Yeah sure looks like it," she said, looking him up and down. "What are _you _doing here? And where did you get that dress? It looks expensive," he asked, changing the subject. "I'm here for a birthday party, and I got this dress with the help of my inheritance. But it wasn't even that expensive."

"Your inheritance?"

"Yeah, about a year ago, when you were declared 'dead', I got some the inheritance you left for me. Not much, the rest I can't inherit until I turn eighteen." In truth, the "small" amount of inheritance was not very small at all, about one hundred thousand dollars, but that didn't compare to the rest of it. Bruce stayed silent. "Let's go home," he replied simply, gesturing to the entrance. "I couldn't agree more," she replied. "And by the way, you look absolutely ridiculous," she giggled. "This isn't actually me," he said, obviously trying to ignore the fact that he was in a hotel robe and flip-flops. "Yeah, whatever." She gave him a friendly glare.

When Lysa and Bruce pushed through the revolving door, the cool autumn hair hit her bare arms and legs, instantly cooling them off. The air outside was much nicer compared to the hot and sticky air in the hotel. But the feeling faded when the flashing of cameras made her flinch. She immediately pulled her purse in front of her face. Any other day she could have her picture taken, but not today. Not when Bruce was standing in a bath robe only five feet away at the valet station. "This is so embarrassing," she muttered to herself. The photographers seemed to surround her, closing in like a pack of wolves.

"Bruce? Lyssandra?" A voice asked. Her mother. _Was she imagining things?_ Why would Rachel be at the Ritz Carlton Hotel? Lysa lowered her purse from her face, and Rachel was in front of her and Bruce, pushing her way through the photographers, some of which had left. "Rachel?"

"Mom?" Bruce and Lysa asked at the same time. Rachel looked Bruce up and down. "What are you doing here?" she asked curtly. Then she eyed Lysa. "Lysa what are _you _doing here?" her tone dramatically changed from annoyed to concerned when she spoke to her. Lysa held her hands up in surrender. "I was just here for a party," she said innocently, and then eyed Bruce. He cleared his throat. "Just… swimming." Lysa let out a short laugh, and Bruce nudged her softly. "It's good to see you," he said, changing the subject. It was only then that Lysa realized that this was probably the first time her parents had _seen _each other since Bruce returned to Gotham. They'd only had a conversation on the phone the day he came back. "You too," Rachel said simply. "How are things for you?" he asked. "The same. The job's getting worse."

"Can't change the world on your own."

"What choice do I have? You're too busy… swimming," she smirked, and Lysa laughed again. Bruce gave her a friendly glare. "Hey, she's not wrong," Lysa commented. Bruce gazed back at Rachel with a somewhat desperate look. "Rachel, Lysa," he shifted his gaze to her. "All this… it's not all I am, inside I'm… _different_." Lysa gave her father a questioning look. _Was this all an act? And for what? _Rachel only shook her head. "Bruce, _deep down_, you may be the same great little kid you used to be… but it's not who you are _underneath. _It's what you _do _that defines you."

As much as Rachel's work schedule annoyed Lysa, she had to agree with her for once. Whatever Bruce was doing, or _pretending _to do, she only hoped he remembered the father that he used to be – that he still could be.

Rachel pushed past Bruce after giving Lysa a small kiss on the cheek. By then the valet had already brought Bruce's car around. In front of her, the motor of a sleek black sports car, a Bugatti Veyron if she remembered correctly, hummed softly. And she always remembered correctly. Bruce took the keys from the valet and strode into the driver's seat. Another valet held the passenger door open for Lysa. She said thank you as she slid in. A second later the hotel was shrinking behind them, but the lights of downtown Gotham still shined bright. "Why _were _you at that party, really?" Lysa practically jumped at the sound of Bruce's voice, it had been so quiet. She sighed and fiddled with her purse. "I wanted to get away from all the drama of this week," she said, staring at Bruce's outfit again. "But somehow drama always seems to find me."


	7. Chapter VI

Chapter Six

The day after the Ritz Carlton party

**Lyssandra woke from **vivid dreams of the Batman, shadows flying through the dark Gotham streets. The day before Bruce disappeared played clearly through her mind, flashes of the dim lights and the dilapidated bar. Her eyes fluttered open.

The sun was halfway up the sky, and its rays heated her under the duvet. Her forehead and palms her slightly sweaty from the images that played in her head. She tried to forget, but god knows that wouldn't work, so she slowly crawled out of bed and took and long shower, trying to make her thoughts drain down with the water.

After changing into a pair of dark skinny jeans, tee shirt and fleece sweater, she strode downstairs to the kitchen. The manor was quiet, no footsteps or shuffling could be heard. Bruce was probably still sleeping. He'd tried to get up early every day for the past week, but sometimes that hadn't worked out. He always seemed disappear at night for some reason, leaving her and Alfred alone in the giant manor.

Another strange newspaper headline greeted her, like it had the day before. _Wayne Enterprises CEO William Earle Confirms Stolen Product. _The article went on to say how Mr. Earle couldn't say what _exactly_ was stolen, but Lysa guessed it was something substantial… maybe Bruce knew something about it. Lysa put the newspaper aside and went to get a cup of yogurt from the fridge when Bruce appeared from the around the corner. He was in a red silk house coat, moving stiffly. "I didn't think you'd be up till noon," she commented, smirking and getting a spoon from the drawer. "I didn't either," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Alfred must've made a pot earlier this morning. "But I have to go in to see Mr. Fox," he added.

She nodded, and then passed the newspaper to Bruce. "You know anything about this?" she asked, eating a spoonful of yogurt. Bruce shrugged. "Not a whole lot. It's not like Earle tells me anything," he said, rather bitterly. "I'll ask him about today though, if I get a chance," he said, now focusing on the news article. He read the article, or _stared _at if for a while. Lysa was just about to go back to her room when he spoke up again.

"You should make plans with your mother," he said, looking up from the article. Lysa whirled around, spinning on her heels. "Where did _that _come from?" she asked, stunned. "The first day you moved in, what you said about Rachel, you guys should make amends," he said, standing up from the breakfast bar. She shook her head. "God, first Mom and now you…"

"I just want you to have a mended relationship with your mother. After all you've been through, you need this," he approached her, lightly placing his hands on her arms. "She won't have time," she convinced him, looking down at her feet. "Just tell her that I insist. Besides, she's so hard-working the D.A.'s office _has _to give her time off _some time_, even if it's just for a lunch." Lysa sighed. "Okay, I'll call her, but I'm not saying that it'll work," she told him, the corner of her lips curling up into a small smile. "Thank you," he breathed and the placed a small kiss on her cheek. "I'll be heading to the office in about half an hour." Bruce walked away from her, towards the staircase. "Tell Mr. Fox I said hi!" she called to him. He looked back at her and smiled. "Will do."

After four unsuccessful calls, she finally got through to her mother. _"Hi, honey what's up?"_ she asked. For once she didn't sound like she was in a rush. Lysa tapped her fingers on her desk, wondering how to phrase her sentence. "We should have lunch sometime, maybe tomorrow if you're free?" There was a slight pause. Rachel must've been wondering if she heard her correctly. _"Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" _Rachel said jokily, but she sounded half-serious as well. "It was Bruce's idea," Lysa blurted. Rachel chuckled. _"I thought as much. But I don't know if I can spare any time-"_

"He _insists_," Lysa said. "Besides… it would be nice to have some small talk for once."

_"That's true," _Rachel said. _"How about tomorrow, at the sushi place you like near the D.A.'s office, one o'clock? I think can I can slip away from the D.A. for an hour or so." _A strange sense of joy flowed through her. Maybe it would be nice to have lunch with her mother, if she didn't get called away in the middle of it. If felt as if she hadn't had a real conversation with her in ages, and their encounter the night before at the Ritz Carlton certainly didn't count. "Sounds good," Lysa said. _"Okay, honey I have to go. Duty calls. See you tomorrow, love you," _Rachel said before hanging up.

Lysa placed her phone on her desk and leaned back against her chair. Bruce had left for Wayne Enterprises an hour ago, and the manor was eerily quiet. The wind howled outside, shaking the window shutters. The grounds outside her window were covered in bright red, orange and yellow leaves.

Her phone pinged, the tone of a new email, but Lysa ignored it and continued to stare out the window. Out in the distance, she could see the two hundred year-old oak tree she had hidden behind during a game of hide-and-seek. Through everything, that tree still remained the same, with only its leaves changing, every year for seven years. _Yeah, I found you, _Bruce's words played in her head. Maybe, after seven years, _she_ could find her father.

* * *

Bruce had come home for dinner for once, although the meal was spent mostly in silence. Lysa asked him how his job with Mr. Fox was going and Bruce gave her the same, vague answers he always did. After dinner, he retreated to his room, or where ever he spent his nights, nowhere to be seen. Lysa went back to her room, remembering some chemistry homework she had yet complete. She opened the door to her room, which was lit with reds and oranges from the setting sun. As if on cue, her phone pinged. Another email. It was another junk email from Amazon, but an unchecked email was just below it, the one from that afternoon. It was from the library, she had a book due, _that day_. "Oh, shit," she muttered. The librarian, Ms. Rainer would be pissed. She had already had a record of overdue books in the past, mostly because she was convinced she could've read them _one more time. _She'd racked up several fines, and she didn't want another, not if she wanted to be on Ms. Rainer's good side. She always let her barrow brand-new book before other people could put them on hold, and let her have a say in what books to order.

Lysa turned to her bookshelf, sure she'd brought the library book with her, but she hadn't. She looked up and down the shelves twice. "Shit," she muttered again. She had left the book at her mother's apartment. Ms. Rainer would not be pleased if she returned a book late yet again. She gazed out her window. The sun was still up, she could go to Rachel's and get her book. She could call a cab, after all that's how she got to Wayne Manor two years earlier.

After quickly calling a cab, Lysa stood up and grabbed her purse that was hanging on her chair and stuffed her phone and wallet inside. She hastily trotted down the stairs, calling to Alfred as she went. He appeared from the hallway just as she reached the final step. "I need to get something from my mom's apartment. It's… somewhat urgent," she told him. "Oh, I can drive you, if you want," he replied, looking stunned at her impatience. "Thanks, but I already called a cab. Oh, and if Bruce asks, just tell him where I am," she said. Alfred looked a little reluctant, but smiled. "Alright, Miss Wayne."

The wind sent shivers down her spine as she stepped out of the manor to wait for the cab. As soon as she saw the cab's headlights coming down the road, she immediately approached it, almost jumping into the cab as it was still moving. She wanted to get her book, return it and the get back to the manor before it got too dark.

It was already eight when the cab reached Rachel's apartment, and the sun had already set over the Gotham City skyline. _So much for getting this done before dark_. The elevator was too slow to reach the lobby, as usual, so Lysa scurried up the ten flights of stairs and unlocked the door. It was dark, as Lysa expected. As she walked towards her room, the apartment felt twice as small as usual. She found her book easily, even with most of her lights off. It was sitting on the edge of her desk. She put it in her purse and left the apartment in a rush, almost forgetting to lock the door behind her.

When she stepped out into the dark Gotham streets, her cab was nowhere to be found, it took off. _Damn. _In all the rush she forgot to ask the cab driver to wait. Just as she put her phone back into her purse after calling a cab yet again, footsteps sounded. Lysa looked back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building, but no one could be seen. More footsteps. That's when she realized that the footsteps weren't beside her… but behind her.

Lysa started to run but a strong hand caught her arm and dragged her into a dark alley behind her. She kept a tight grip on her purse as the hand slammed her against the brick wall of the apartment building. A loud yelp escaped her mouth, but another hand covered it, muffling her voice. Her eyes widened when she realized she was staring into the grinning face of Kyle Walker. Standing beside them were the same three boys that were with him the week before. _Had they _followed _her? _One of the other boys took her purse from her and threw it on to the concrete.

"I told you, you _will _get my parents their jobs back," he snarled, his grip tightening on her wrist. She bit down on the hand over her mouth, and Walker's hand jerked away, but he still held her wrist, preventing her from running away. He stared at her with a look of disgust. With a sudden jolt, Walker's hand came up over her cheek, leaving it red and stinging. She let out another yelp and Walker let go of her wrist, but two other boys held arms behind her, making her squirm. One of the boys had his nose right near her neck; she could feel his breath crawl down her skin. "I'll show you how serious I am," he hissed, approaching her. He pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket. She tried to scream again, but another hand clamped over her mouth. Her heart pounded like a bass drum and she fought back as hard as she could. Walker's blade lightly touched her cheek. The warm metal seemed as if it would melt on her skin.

_"I'll show you how serious _I am_," _A deep voice rasped. Everyone, including Lysa, froze. The voice came from above, but she couldn't tell where. There was a sudden gust of wind and then a large dark figure swooped down into the alley, knocking over one of the boys. Lysa's eyes widened.

It was the Batman.

Her eyes were fixed on him, not daring to look away for she thought that she would blink and he'd disappear. After only hearing about him, only seeing him in blurry pictures and her dreams, he was standing right in front of her. He wore a dark body suit, with a long flowing cape and cowl that covered half his face. "Let her go," the Batman said. She felt the boys' grip loosen on her arms, and she shook them off and ran to grab her purse. "Who the hell are you?" Walker cried as his friends ran off down the street. Lysa stood with her purse, frozen in a mix of shock and adrenaline. "I'm the Batman," he thundered, before knocking Walker out cold.

Lysa breathed heavy, not sure whether to stay to run. "Call the cops," the Batman rasped, turning to her. "They can escort you home." Then he disappeared to the rooftops, into the darkness of the night. "Hey!" she called after him, not being able to think of anything else, but he was already gone.

* * *

Two police cars approached the alley about ten minutes later, Lysa didn't really know. She was sitting on the cold cement ground of the alley, holding onto her phone so tight she thought she might crush it. Walker's steadily breathing body was in front of her, deadly still in the wind. Lysa couldn't wrap her head around what had just happened. If it weren't for the Batman, she would've been bleeding half to death in the alley. It seemed as if the events had only taken a second before the Batman disappeared. But she she remembered everything.

"Miss Wayne!" A familiar voice called from the street. There were flashes of red and blue from police cars. She shifted her gaze to see Officer Gordon and two other officers running towards her. "Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered, trying to regain her composure. She nodded to Walker's body. "He and his friends attacked me, but the Batman was here… two of them ran off," she didn't even know if she was making sense, but Officer Gordon seemed to understand her perfectly fine. "The Batman?" he breathed, running a hand through his hair. Lysa only nodded. The other two officers took Walker and his friend, who was starting to regain consciousness, into the police car. Officer Gordon helped Lysa to a standing position. "We should get you to a hospital," he said. Lysa shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'm relatively unhurt."

"Lysa, we should, just to be on the safe side," he reasoned. "Officer Gordon, nothing serious happened. I just want to go home, be away from the city."

"Okay," he sighed in defeat. "But I'll be calling your parents."

"That's fine," she replied, walking towards the police car. She slipped into the passenger seat, her head leaning against the cold window. When the bright lights of the city were fading behind them, Officer Gordon broke the deafening silence between them. "What did those boys want?"

"Turns out you get a fair share of enemies when your name is 'Wayne'," she commented. "Walker just wanted me to get my father to get his parents' jobs back."

"You know, back there in the alley, it reminded me of when I found Bruce in an alley about twenty five years ago. I still remember his face that night," he shook his head. "Tragic. Your grandparents were good people."

"I've heard," Lysa mumbled. Officer Gordon gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Those boys will be put away for as long as I can get. I'd try them as adults if I could."

"I appreciate it, Officer Gordon," she said, gazing at the glowing manor coming into view. Alfred was waiting at the door with an anxious look on his face. And beside him was Bruce with an equal expression. She didn't think he'd be home. "Lysa," he said as she went to exit the car. She paused and gazed at him. "You'll have to give a statement about what happened. I'll set up a meeting. And don't worry about living up to your grandparents, if that's what you're worried about. You do that every day."

Lysa smiled warmly, left the car and walked towards Alfred and Bruce. Her father starting coming towards her, his arms outstretched. Her walking turned into running, and then she did something she hadn't done in seven years. She ran straight in to her father's arms, hugging him tightly.


	8. Chapter VII

Chapter Seven

The day after Lysa's encounter with the Batman

**Around twelve-thirty **the next afternoon, Lyssandra was in a cab heading towards the city yet again. She was meeting her mother for lunch, and she had no doubt Rachel would've heard about what happened the night before. To both her surprise and relief, the story hadn't graced any pages of the news.

When she'd got home last night, Bruce had buried her in questions. He'd said that the police had given him a pretty vague recount of what had happened. "It was those boys again, the ones from earlier in the week," she'd told him, sipping some warm hot chocolate that Alfred had made for her. They were sitting side by side in the living room, across from a burning fireplace. Lysa's head rested on her father's shoulder, and he was gently stroking her hair. It felt almost as good as the hug they'd shared only ten minutes before. "Walker pulled a knife on me, but then the craziest thing happened," she continued, resting her mug on a coaster on the coffee table. "The Batman showed up… came out of nowhere. He got two of the boys arrested. He… he saved me."

"You mean that crazy vigilante everyone keeps talking about?" Bruce asked, seeming to not believe the situation either. Lysa detected something else in his tone… something she couldn't quite place. "Yeah… it was actually pretty incredible, in a weird way," she admitted. "Maybe he isn't some nut after all," he commented, making Lysa giggle. "I should thank him."

"Yes you should," Lysa agreed, smiling up at her father, though he didn't return the smile. "Lysa," he sighed. "I'm so sorry this happened. When I got the call… I was so scared. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you," his eyes shined. He didn't need to say anything else; she knew what he was thinking. "It's not your fault," she said. Bruce didn't reply, and they sat on the sofa, staring at the burning fire. She was half asleep when Bruce carried her to her room and tucked her into bed. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I love you," he whispered. Just on the brink of falling asleep, Lysa could've sworn she'd whispered "I love you" back.

"That'll be thirty-five eighty," the cab driver said, pulling her from her thoughts. _Was she there already? _Lysa gazed out the window and sure enough, the DA's office was beside her. Passing the cab driver two twenty dollar bills and muttering to keep the change, she stepped out into the busy Gotham streets. Groups of people in business suits took long strides down the sidewalk, heading to or from lunch. Lysa checked her phone. It was twelve forty-five. After lunch she had to return her book to the library. She'd forgotten amid all the chaos of the night before. Ms. Rainer would give her hell for it, and Lysa was pretty sure that "being saved by the Batman" was not an excuse she could use to get out of paying a fine.

As she stepped into the DA's office, people milled around, quickly walking from cubicle to cubicle. Rachel wasn't kidding when she said this place was always busy. Lysa gazed around the offices, trying to look for her mother's. She had no luck, and people were giving her confused looks. _What is Bruce Wayne's daughter doing here? _They must've been wondering.

"Do you need help finding someone?" A voice said behind her, startling her. She spun on her heels, turning to the voice. A tall man stood in front of her, with tanned skin and brown curly hair. He wore a pair of thin glasses. She swore she saw him before, and then she remembered that he'd been in the news. Dr. Jonathan Crane from Arkham Asylum. He'd been the one to confirm that Falcone was crazy. Her mother used to talk about him frequently, worshiping his work. "I'm just looking for my mother, Dr. Crane," she replied. "Rachel?" He flashed her a smile. "I believe she's in a meeting. She should be out in a minute." Dr. Crane was about to leave, but he pause and gazed back at her. "You're Lyssandra Wayne, right? Bruce Wayne's daughter?"

Lysa was growing tired of answering this question, but she smiled politely anyway. "That's right," she said. "I'm sorry," Dr. Crane replied, shaking his head. Lysa stared at him, confused at his response. "What do you mean?" She asked, crossing her arms. "Well it's no secret that Bruce has been acting... irresponsibly since he got back," he said, crinkling his nose in disgust. "I can imagine he's been quite a handful." Though Dr. Crane wasn't technically lying, she still felt the need to defend her father. "Well, no one's really seen him like I have. He's actually a pretty remarkable father, despite what those trashy tabloids say," she retorted, narrowing her eyes. _Well, despite the fact that he disappeares for hours at a time. _She surprised herself, saying those words. It had only been about two weeks since she wanted nothing to do with her father. Dr. Crane pursed his lips, but smiled tightly. "Ms. Wayne, why don't you come come down to my office some day and see what I do," he suggested. "I remember you being interested in psychology, right?"

"Forensics, actually," Lysa replied, smiling stiffly. She wanted nothing more than to leave and find her mother. He stared at her in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Lysa, there you are!" Her mother said, coming up from behind her. A rush of relief flowed through her. "And Dr. Crane," she said, gazing at the man across from her. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah, I'm just here to talk to the DA about Falcone's condition," he shrugged as if it were no big deal. "Then I bumped into Lysa, and we got talking. She is _quite_ exceptional." Rachel smiled with pride. "Thank you, Dr. Crane," she checked her watch out of habit. "Now we must be going, I promised this exceptional girl a lunch."

"Well it's been very nice meeting you, Ms. Wayne," he said. "You too, ," she replied, smiling politely though she wanted to scowl at him. He left towards the DA's office a second later, but turned his head to look at her one last time.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to call last night," Rachel said as they walked towards the sushi restaurant. "I was super busy, and I would've come over to the manor if I could. I was so worried." Lysa just shrugged it off. "It's okay, Bruce handled it fine. And nothing serious happened."

"Nothing serious?! You were jumped by four boys!"

"But the Batman showed up before they could do anything." Rachel stared at her for a moment before she said anything. "The Batman?" Lysa nodded, wide-eyed. "Well, thank God for that," Rachel added.

Lysa and Rachel walked into the restaurant, and the hostess sat them in a booth by the window, where they could see busy streets and practically all of the office buildings on the street. "Lysa," her mother said, catching her attention. "It was good you of you to set this up," she said, smiling at her. "I told you, it was Bruce's idea," Lysa reminded her, though she was glad _he _set it up. Rachel laughed a little and sighed. "Still… I'm sorry about never being home." Lysa was expecting her mother to continue with some excuse, but nothing came. "I'm sorry I put my job first and I'm sorry I was a bad mother. I'm so sorry." Lysa didn't say anything, stunned. She stared at her mother, and took in what she said. She could tell she meant it. "I'm sorry too, for snapping about you not being at home and stuff," Lysa apologized, which was long overdue. "I know your job can be stressful, and I should've respected that."

"And I should've been there for you when you needed it most," Rachel said. She felt as if a weight had lifted off her shoulders, now that she was finally making amends with her mother. It felt good to have a somewhat functional family again. They went on talking and talking long after they finished their meals, about everything. Movies, books, memories (for which Lysa corrected most of her mother's) and even the Batman. When Rachel checked her watch, she almost jumped with shock. "_Shit,_" she muttered. "I'm late. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Lysa said, waving it off. Rachel smiled she paid the bill and they left the restaurant, back out into the noisy Gotham streets. Lysa watched as Rachel walked back to the DA's office, and then she got a cab to drop off her book at the library.

* * *

Later than night, after completing an extensive amount of homework, she was finally ready to go to bed. Lysa could rest easy, since she didn't have to worry about Walker and his friends being at school the next day, thanks to the Batman. Though thoughts still whirled in her about mind about who he was. Alfred's words drifted to her mind again… _he had a late night…_ For some reason, she couldn't stop thinking about it, the picture in the news was practically burned into her memory, not to mention the night he saved her. It was all staring to give her a headache. She plopped on her bed and closed her eyes, trying to leave her thoughts for tomorrow.

Lysa was half asleep when she was woken up by heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Or rather, a set of footsteps and the banging of something against the carpeted stairs. Now completely alert, Lysa rushed out of her room towards the staircase. She let out a loud gasp when she saw Alfred carrying a half-conscious Bruce up the stairs. His forehead was coated with sweat, and his clothes were completely disheveled. "What the hell happened?" She cried, running towards Alfred and her father. She took his arm and put it around her shoulder to help Alfred get him to his room. "I'll explain everything later," Alfred huffed, out of breath.

By the time they got Bruce to the master bedroom, her legs were burning and her heart was beating like a bass drum. They set Bruce on the bed and he was mumbling something unintelligible. Lysa sat on the bed beside him, staring at her father. A thousand thoughts rushed through her head, but she pushed them away. She took her father's clammy hand in hers, squeezing it like it would wake him up. "Dad, what the hell did you do?" she whispered, tears starting to form in her eyes. It was then that she realized that it was the first time she'd used the word "dad" since Bruce got back. Answers of his disappearance still awaited her, but Lysa couldn't be angry with him… at least not at the moment. She only wanted him to wake up and hug her and tell her that everything's all right. She couldn't lose him again.

"He has to wake up, Alfred," she sobbed. "I just got him back. He didn't even tell where he'd been for the past seven years." She felt Alfred's warm hands on her shoulders. "I'm sure he will be absolutely fine," he comforted her. She wanted to believe him, she _had _to believe him.

After losing track of how long Lysa'd been sitting next to Bruce, Alfred eventually escorted to her room and tucked her into bed. "You have school tomorrow, Miss Wayne. You need sleep," he said as he turned off the lights of her room. The room was flooded with darkness, apart from the light of the moon that peered through her curtains. He was right, and despite everything, at least she had _some _comfort in knowing that Walker would not be in school. "Goodnight, Alfred," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Miss Wayne."

* * *

Lysa checked on her father the next morning, hoping that he would be awake, or that his condition would've at least improved. Alfred was in his room when she entered, simply staring at him. He looked at her and shook his head. Nothing had changed. She sat with her father again until Alfred insisted that they leave for school.

The story hadn't been on the news, but word of Walker's arrest spread like a wildfire around the school. Everyone was talking about him, about Lysa and about the Batman. And she'd thought that the days of staring and gossiping were over. _That's what you get for being a Wayne. _Mason and Alexa were good with not bringing it up, they hardly asked any questions and most of it was confirming or denying the rumours spreading around the school. Yes, the Batman knocked him out. No, the Batman didn't kill any of the boys. No, Lysa didn't see the Batman's face.

The day dragged on slower than usual. Most the time Lysa found her thoughts wandering to her father, how he was doing, what was happening to him. During chemistry, she got so lost in her worried thoughts that the note she was supposed to be taking was only half-completed. When the final bell rang, she rushed out of the school as fast as she could, almost forgetting to say goodbye to Mason and Alexa. Alfred was awaiting her in a black Rolls Royce on the curb and she practically flung herself into the passenger's seat. "Anxious to leave, Miss Wayne?" he asked, starting the car's engine. "Just worried about Dad," she replied. The word slipped right out of her mouth yet again, without thinking. Her mother would be happy that she and Bruce were getting along.

"How was he when you left?" she asked, shifting in the passenger's seat for what felt like the millionth time. "No change, which is both a good and bad thing," he replied. Lysa nodded and turned her gaze back to the window.

It seemed as if an eternity passed before they got back to Wayne Manor. Before Alfred completely stopped the car, Lysa already bounced out and burst through the entrance of the manor. She raced up the stairs to her father's room, not waiting for Alfred to catch up. When she got there, she expected to see him breathing soundly, but he wasn't. She gasped and rushed towards him, grabbing his hand. Sweated formed on his forehead, his breathing was erratic and he was tossing and turning in the bed. "Alfred!" she cried, silently praying that Bruce would get better, that Alfred would concoct some magical cure for him. Alfred rushed into the room, not wasting any time on Bruce's worsened condition. "Miss Wayne, get a cold damp cloth for Master Wayne's forehead, I need to make a call," he said. Lysa stood, still looking at her father nervously. "You sure he'll be alright?"

"I will do everything in my power to make sure that is the case." Lysa nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek.

After twenty agonizing minutes of sitting with Bruce while he tossed and turned, the doorbell rang. Lysa didn't even look up when Alfred left to answer it, and then minutes later entered the room again, this time with Mr. Fox. Of all people, why had Alfred called him? But she guessed she would find out. At this rate, she would accept any help at all. By then, Bruce's breathing slowed, but it still seemed he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Like any small movement would throw off his breathing. She watched attentively as Mr. Fox pulled out a syringe from his brief case and drew blood from Bruce's arm. "What are you going to do, Mr. Fox?" He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm going to see what exactly is wrong with your father," he replied. "However, this might take a while, you'll have to update me immediately if Bruce's condition changes."

"Thank you, Mr. Fox," Alfred said, shaking his hand. Lysa only stared at her father, biting her thumb nail, a habit she'd stopped years ago. "Ms. Wayne, you'll drive yourself insane staring at him all day," she heard Mr. Fox say. "Don't worry too much. Nothing can keep Bruce Wayne down." She offered a small nod towards him and he left the room with Alfred. Right now, Lysa could only hope that was true.


	9. Chapter VIII

**Author's Note: Another chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Eight

Two days later, Bruce's birthday

**Bruce's condition seemed** to improve after that second day, after Mr. Fox arrived back at the manor with a supposed antidote. Lysa didn't even know what was wrong with him – Alfred forgot to mention it. And she didn't press him, he probably had enough to worry about and she would find out one way or another. All she wanted was for her father to be okay, and today more than anything. It was his birthday, after all.

Still, it was all very strange to Lysa, and her thoughts kept nagging at her, begging to be heard. Where was Bruce going at night? And why? What was he doing that rendered him unconscious and almost dead? Before she could stop it, flashes of the Batman flew through her mind. She remembered him perfectly, though she tried to remember his voice. But all that came up was a deep garble of words. Too bad she didn't have an auditory memory. Could her father really be this vigilante? She'd considered it before, but now all the details were coming together. The Batman showed up only days after Bruce returned to Gotham. And his exaggerated playboy behaviour, and then telling her and Rachel that it wasn't actually who he was…

Lysa pushed the thought away. She was driving herself mad. What reason would Bruce have to be Batman anyway? It was probably some cop taking the law into his own hands. It was plausible, she'd heard that many cops on the force were corrupt; maybe this Batman person was tired of the corruption. She laughed to herself. By this point, the Batman was starting to sound like her mother.

That day she'd left school early to give a statement to Officer Gordon about Walker, and then took a taxi home from the precinct. As the taxi pulled up to the front of Wayne Manor, Lysa noticed an unfamiliar car parked just by the door. Could it be Mr. Fox? Lysa clumsily gave the cabbie two twenty dollar bills and rushed out and into the manor. She quickly pulled of her converse shoes and rushed up the stairs, still holding her backpack. _Please be awake, please be awake, _she muttered over and over. When she approached her father's room, she heard voices. Alfred's, Mr. Fox's and… _her father's. _Her heart raced as she dropped her backpack by the door of the room and gazed in. Bruce was sitting against headboard. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thinner. But he was awake.

"Dad!" Lysa cried as she wrapped him in a hug. He let out a soft groan in response. "Oh, sorry," she recoiled. Bruce smiled. "It's okay," he said before pulling her back into a hug. "I thought I lost you," she fought hard to hold back tears, but there was no stopping them. "Dad, you scared me half to death!"

"I'd never leave you, ever," Bruce whispered while stroking her hair gently. "And since when do you call me 'dad'?"

Lysa faced her father, hands on his shoulders. "Since Alfred brought you into the house halfway to death," she told him. "I like it. I missed it," he said in reply. Lysa's smile grew wide as she wiped a tear from her cheek. "I missed it, too."

It was then that Lysa remembered that they weren't the only ones in the room. Mr. Fox and Alfred were on the other side of the bed, smiling. "Oh, sorry for interrupting," Lysa flushed. "No problem at all, Ms. Wayne," Mr. Fox replied before turning back to her father. "Now as I was saying, I analyzed your blood for receptor compounds and protein-based catalysts."

"Am I meant to understand all that?" Bruce asked. "He means he created an antidote," Lysa explained, remembering what Mr. Fox had said a few days before. Bruce nodded. "Do you have anymore?" Lysa gave him a questioning look, as did Mr. Fox. _Why on earth would he need _more_? _"Planning on gassing yourself again?" Mr. Fox asked. Lysa knew Mr. Fox meant the remark to be funny, but she couldn't help tensing at his words. Bruce shrugged. "You know how it is… you're out on the town, looking for kicks… someone's passing around weaponized hallucinogens." Lysa's eyes widened slightly. _So that's what this was. _But who was doing it? Was it a personal attack on her father? She realized she was breathing faster than normal and steadied herself.

Mr. Fox shook his head and walked to the door. "I'll bring what I have, but the inoculation should serve as an antidote for now," he said before nodding at Alfred and Lysa and leaving out the door. Lysa gave her father another quizzical look, but shrugged it off. "Oh, happy birthday by the way," she smiled, to which Bruce smiled back. "You remembered?" he asked. Lysa gasped in mock-offense. "Of course I did." She got up from the bed and walked over to her backpack. It was slumped against the open door, its contents threatening to spill out. _Had she really thrown it that hard? _She took out a pale green envelope with _Dad _written in cursive from the back pocket.

"I even got you this last-minute card," she said as she handed her father the card. He took the envelope softly in his hands. Lysa's brow furrowed when she saw his knuckles covered in dark purple splotches. _Bruises? _Was he working out at night? By the look of it he would've annihilated the punching bag. "Try and get some sleep, sir," Alfred chimed in from behind her. "You'll need to be rested for your party."

"My what?"

"Just get some sleep, Dad," Lysa said, giggling. Reluctantly, Bruce slid down against the pillow, and Lysa and Alfred left the room. After Alfred closed the door, Lysa ran a hand through her hair. "What is he doing at night?" She wondered aloud. It was crazy to think that her father _could _actually be the Batman, but the theory became more and more plausible by the minute. _Leaving at night, bruises, being gassed by a _weaponized hallucinogen _for God's sake. _Out of everything that could be going on, Batman was the thought that continued to tug at her the most. Alfred must've heard her speak, because he replied to her question. "I'm sure whatever Master Wayne's doing, he has good intentions."

* * *

About two hours later, the doorbell rang, lifting Lysa's attention from her research on the Treaty of Versailles for her history essay. She walked down the empty halls of the manor to the stairs which lead to the front foyer. From the top of the stairs, she could see Bruce talking to a smaller figure, her mother. She started to descend the stairs, but something stopped her, and she just stared and listened in to her parents' conversation. "Well it is my birthday…" Bruce said matter-of-factly, leaning against the door frame. He was still in his red housecoat. "I know – I'm sorry I can't come to the party," Rachel said and handed him a small white box. "Just dropping off your present." It didn't surprise Lysa that she couldn't come. Some people don't change. But she tried to not take it too seriously; she'd just started to repair her relationship with her mother, after all. And she wasn't going to let one bail on a party ruin it. Suddenly, Rachel's phone rang, and she picked it up almost immediately. After exchanging short, sharp words with whoever was on the other line, she hung up, frustrated. Lysa'd seen this behaviour from her mother before, but this time it seemed different, more serious, like anything could set her off. Usually she was able to control her frustration, even on the toughest of cases. Lysa remembered one night when Rachel was on the phone for hours, arguing with a judge about a witness that was unable to testify. She'd spoken loudly, but never yelled. Lysa had even thought that Rachel had been about to throw her phone at the wall, but it never left her hand.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked. "It's Falcone. Dr. Crane's moved him to Arkham Asylum on suicide watch," Rachel explained, clearly anxious to leave. _Falcone? _This _was_ serious. "You're going to Arkham now? It's in the Narrows, Rachel," Bruce said. He was right. The Narrows were dangerous, and it would be dark soon. Lysa could see the sun just beginning to set out the front door. "Have yourself a good time," she said. There was no winning an argument with Rachel. Then she looked up the stairs, to Lysa. "You too, Lysa." She smiled softly.

Rachel turned to leave out the door. "Happy birthday, Bruce," she called, not even stopping to look back.

* * *

Lysa retreated to her room after that, and for the next hour, the manor was eerily quiet. She couldn't hear the voices of Alfred or Bruce, not even their footsteps around the house. The caterers had arrived to set up for the party some time later, so it felt a little less eerie with the hustle of people rushing around in the kitchen. Soon the guests would be arriving, and Lysa needed to get ready.

She took a hot shower, and didn't realize how long she'd been in there, letting the steaming water hit her skin. When he left her bathroom, the sky was so dark it was almost black. Still wrapped in a towel, she searched her closet for something to wear. Eventually, her eyes fell on a black pocketed dress with a golden shimmer. She'd gotten it in the summer to wear to the ballet with her mother, but that night she'd cancelled. Court case ran late. Lysa'd been infuriated, and stayed in that night, leaving the dress in the back of her closet. At least she could wear it now.

After slipping into the dress and blow drying her hair, her phone chimed. And then again. And again. _Who was texting her? _She picked up her phone from her bed. They were texts from Mason. Her brow furrowed as she read them. _Stop whatever you're doing and turn on the news. NOW. I MEAN IT. _Without thinking, Lysa raced for her laptop and immediately went to the Gotham City News website. What could be so important? She streamed the live news on her computer and crossed her arms against her chest. A female reporter with black hair and tanned skin talked of a car chase, the cops were in pursuit of the Batman, but Lysa's eyes were glued to the screen when the news cut to the chase. No less than six police cars were chasing a... a tank. A big, black monstrous tank, that for some reason looked… familiar. _What the hell? _

She thought hard for a reason why the tank was familiar, then a memory flash through her mind. She'd been eight when Bruce had given her a tour of Wayne Industries and had taken her to the Applied Sciences division. There, in the corner of the enormous room, had been a giant vehicle… the same vehicle that was on her computer screen now. Her eyes widened and she gasped. _That _was the Wayne Enterprises tank. And the Batman was driving it. _"Holy shit," _she gasped, unable to take her eyes off the screen.

But had the tank been stolen from the company? No, Bruce or at least Mr. Fox would've known if it had been taken. Unless… _he _was the one who had taken it. He had the means to, all the stuff in Applied Sciences belonged to his company, or if not that than his father. She continued to stare at the screen, at the tank, and realized something else. The disappearances at night, the bruises, the weaponized hallucinogen and now this. It made sense now, more than ever. Her suspicion was true.

Her father, Bruce Wayne, was the vigilante Gotham was obsessed with.

The Batman.


	10. Chapter IX

**Author's Note: Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Nine

Half an hour after figuring out Bruce's secret

**Lyssandra had been **pacing in her room for the past half hour. Her palms were damp with sweat, and she tried to breathe steadily. But one singular thought pulsed in her brain, refusing to leave.

Her father was the Batman.

_The Batman. _

He had been the one who showed up the night of her attack, who saved her, who got Walker and his friend arrested. Had he been fallowing her? She shook her head, trying to push off the thought. But his words from the day of Walker's threat floated back to her. _How can I protect so any people, but not the person I love most? _

Then something else struck her. Did his disappearance have to do with him becoming the Batman? It must've – she couldn't think of anything else. She sighed, and gazed out her window. It was completely dark now, but the front of the manor was brightly lit, and guests were arriving for her father's birthday. The news stream was still playing quietly behind her, but Lysa was no longer paying attention. The reporter was still talking about the chase, but the tank had had long since disappeared from the screen.

Yet again, she tried to clear her mind, with no avail, and smoothed down her dress. She didn't know if she was angry at her father for keeping this from her, or terrified about him putting himself in constant danger. What if someone else found out about this, like she had?

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the door of her room into the hall way. Soft chatter could be heard of the floor below as she made her way to the stairs. People filled the front parlor, though most were making their way into the large ballroom that hadn't been used since her grandparents were alive. The whole room had been empty, dusty and dreary. A reminder of what used to be. But tonight it was full of life and light, though she didn't know if Bruce saw it that way.

Lysa gripped the railing of the staircase, as if she would misstep and tumble down. Thankfully, her steps were careful and steady, and hopefully no one noticed the worry and anxiety in her expression.

Most of the guests were people Lysa didn't recognize, but there were a few from Wayne Enterprises. When she made her way through the crowd of people, some stopped to greet her and shake her hand. "Miss Wayne, how lovely to see you," a man she recognized from Wayne Enterprises said, stopping her in her tracks. "And you as well," she managed to smile sweetly despite her pounding heart, to which she was surprised no one else heard.

The crowd cleared near the entrance of the ballroom, and Lysa saw of a glimpse of Alfred talking with someone, presumably her father, around the corner of the hall. She took quiet steps towards them, trying to make her presence unknown to them. Did Alfred know Bruce was the Batman? He must – since he spent so much time with him since he came back. Their conversation became more audible as Lysa approached. People in catering uniforms passed her without a second glance.

"You're getting lost in this creature of yours," Alfred said, almost a whisper. Alfred knew. Of course he did. "I'm using this _creature_ to help people like my father did-" Bruce started but Alfred interrupted. "For Thomas Wayne, helping others was never about not proving anything to anyone. Including himself."

"It's _Rachel_. She was dying," Bruce replied deeply. A pang of dread filled Lysa's body. _Dying? _What the hell had happened? Lysa recalled that her mother had hurried out to Arkham asylum, to visit Dr. Crane. Was he somehow involved in this? It was the most likely guess, though it was equally as likely to get mugged in the Narrows, especially at this time of night.

"She'd downstairs, sedated," Bruce informed Alfred, and Lysa took in a breath of relief. "I need you to take her home."

"We both care about Rachel, sir. But what you're doing has to be beyond that. It can't be personal. Or you're just a vigilante." There was a short silence before Bruce spoke again. "If Fox still here?" Lysa saw Alfred give a short nod. "We need to send these people away." Lysa's brow furrowed, but she kept listening.

"Those are Bruce Wayne's guests out there," Alfred said, exasperated. "You have a name to maintain-"

"I don't care about my name," Bruce replied.

"It's not just your name. It's your daughter's, your father's. And that's all that left of him. Don't destroy it." With that, Alfred left down the hall, disappearing from Lysa's view. Bruce sighed and shook his head, then made his way to the ballroom. Lysa tried to turn away and pretended that she'd not listened to the conversation, but Bruce caught up to her.

"How much did you hear?" he asked quietly. Lysa looked at her father and tried to read his expression. It was a mix of concern, anger and… fear. "Enough," she said simply. "I'm glad you're here," he said suddenly, catching her off guard. Lysa managed to smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Before Bruce could answer, they entered the ballroom and the guests started to sing _Happy Birthday. _Lysa smiled and joined in. Applause sounded, and soon after, Bruce got sucked into a conversation with Mr. Earle. She couldn't stand to be in the middle to the crowed and sticky room any longer, so she walked over to the corner, near the bar. A vibration in her dress pocket made her jump. _God, she needed to calm down. _She pulled her phone out, and saw a text from Alexa. _Did you see the news? _She asked. Lysa replied quickly. _Yeah, Mason told me to put it on. Crazy, huh? _She couldn't tell her friends about her father. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Lysa had a feeling that this was something Bruce didn't want to be spread around. What would happen to him if everyone found out?

Alexa replied within the minute. _Totally. Even my parents had their eyes glued to the screen. What kind of person do you have to be to own a vehicle like that? _Lysa knew. Her father.

_No clue,_ Lysa replied. For once, she was glad they weren't talking face-to-face. Alexa would've been able to read though her lie without a second thought. _Sorry, I have to go. Parents yelling at me for using phone at dinner, _Alexa's next text came. Lysa couldn't help but giggle. _Okay, _she texted back. There was no reply.

Through the throngs of guests, Lysa managed to catch a glance at her father, who was talking to Mr. Fox across the room. Then their conversation ended abruptly, and Bruce faced another guest whom Lysa didn't recognize. Her brow furrowed when she saw her father's face pale, though he seemed to remain calm. Lysa started to make her way through the clumps of guest towards her father and the mysterious guest, keeping her eyes trained on them. But before she could get close enough to hear their conversation, Bruce grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing caterer and spoke to the room. "Everyone! Everyone!" He said. His words were slightly slurred. _He couldn't actually be drunk. _He had seemed perfectly alert when he was talking to that guest. "I want to thank you all… for drinking my booze," he continued. A low laugh filled the room.

"No really, the thing about being a Wayne is that you're never short of a few freeloaders to fill up your mansion. So here's to you people." An uncomfortable silence made its way through the room. Lysa crossed her arms and glared at her father. _What was he doing? _He had been perfectly fine before the party, if not a bit nervous. A few guests started to head for the doors. Bruce downed the champagne quickly. "I'm not finished. To all you false friends and pathetic suck-ups who smile through your teeth at me, you had your fill. Now leave me in peace! Out, everybody, out!"

Lysa let out a gasp. He had been fine, _fine, _five minutes ago. This was not her father, it couldn't be. She couldn't help but stare at her father in disgust, confusion. She was just starting to mend her relationship with Bruce again. But maybe… maybe someone was making him do this.

When people started shuffling out of the room, they whispered of him. "The apple falls far from the tree," she heard someone say. She let out a short breath of disappointment. He couldn't really be drunk, could he? He seemed fine five minutes ago. But maybe she was wrong.

After everyone was almost out, she approached Bruce and touched his arm. "Dad, what the hell wrong with you?" she asked firmly. His expression changed almost immediately. He looked concerned, angry and scared all at the same time. He placed both hands on her shoulders. "Lysa, you need to leave with the rest of these people, okay?" He said in a low voice. "Wait what? Why?" It was then she noticed that not everyone left. A few men were still in the room, staring at them. She gazed at him again with worry. "What's going on?"

"Lysa, please -" Bruce pleaded, but someone interrupted them. "Lyssandra Wayne, is it?" The voice said. It was soft, soothing, but Lyssandra couldn't shake a feeling of dread from her body. Lysa and her father turned to gaze at the man. He was middle-aged but seemed fit, and was well-dressed in a black suit. The feature that caught Lysa's attention was the man's long grey moustache. There was a silence between the three of them that felt like forever. Lysa didn't know what to say.

"Y-yes," she managed to get out, just as her father opened his mouth to interject. "I've heard much about you," the man replied, his expression unchanging. Suddenly she felt her father's hand curl around her arm, pulling her behind him. "Ra's, let her go, she has nothing to do with this," Bruce whispered harshly. The man, Ra's, only smiled slightly and started to pace in front of them.

"Your speech was amusing, but pointless. None of these people have long to live - your antics at the asylum forced my hand..." He said. Lysa felt his hand squeeze a little tighter and looked at her father in confusion. _Who __is __this man? __What happened when he was gone? _"Crane was working for you," Bruce stated. _What did Crane have to do with this? _Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of it all. "His toxin is derived from the organic compound in our blue poppies. He was able to weaponize it," Ra's explained. "He's not a member of the League of Shadows," Bruce said. _The League of Shadows? _"Of course not. He thought our plan was to hold the city for ransom."

"But really you're going to unleash Crane's poison on the entire city."

"Then watch Gotham tear itself apart through fear," Ra's finished. _Oh my God, _Lysa thought. _Everyone's going to kill each other. _"You're going to destroy millions of lives," Bruce said, as if reading her thoughts. "Only a cynical man would call what these people have 'lives', Wayne," Ra's replied bitterly. He started to walk into the hallway. Before Bruce followed he turned to Lysa. "Find somewhere safe," he whispered. All she did was stare in confusion as the two men walked out into the fall, further and further from her. They were still talking, which worried her. _Everything _worried her. She knew she needed to find safety, but she couldn't look away.

When Lysa finally started to walk away, something caught her attention. The smell of gasoline wafted through the air, and then smoke. _No, _her eyes widened in alarm. She bolted back to the ballroom and hallway.

Flames were crawling up the curtains and walls to the ceiling. The whole room in flames. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She could make out her father and Ra's still talking. Bruce looked calm. _How could he be calm?_ "Dad!" Lysa screamed, but started coughing due to the smoke. Her lungs felt as if they were being filled with cotton balls. She took her cardigan off and covered her mouth and nose with it. "Lysa!" She heard her father cry back. She started running towards him when one of Ra's's men held her back. Her cardigan flew out of her arms and was engulfed by the flames. She tried to squirm out of the man's grasp but to no avail. His grip was so tight that her hands started to feel numb. "Dad!" She cried again.

Suddenly a dark figure dropped behind Bruce, unsheathed a long sword and attacked him. As if without blinking, Bruce fought back, and the figure was easily defeated, but Ra's took out a sword and attacked him as well. Lysa breathed hard and coughed. Sweat formed on her forehead, and her muscles were wearing from the heat of the flames. She couldn't fight back against the man.

"I am going to stop you," Bruce hissed through his teeth. "You never did learn to mind your surroundings," Ra's said, as he pushed Bruce back. Everything seemed to happen to slow motion, blurred. A burning, wooden beam fell from the ceiling onto Bruce's chest, knocking him out. "Dad!" Lysa started to cry and pulled from the man's grip, but didn't move. Ra's approached Lysa. His fingers curled around her jaw and pulled her chin up. "Such a waste," he muttered. "Go to hell," she spat, pulling her face from his grip. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile. He looked at his men. "Leave her here," he told them. "The Wayne 'legacy' can die with both of them."

Lyssandra was suddenly pushed to the floor, her arms breaking her fall. Without thinking, she got up and ran to her father, not even bothering to check if Ra's and his men were gone. She tried to move the beam from his chest, but it was so heavy, and it was so hot. Lysa coughed loud and hard from all the smoke. There had to be something to cover her mouth. Her tights. Coughing, she slid them off and covered her nose and mouth. She tried to move it again when her phone slipped out of dress pocket. _Thank God. _Lysa speed dialled Alfred.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," she muttered as she wiped her forehead. _"Miss Wayne?" _Alfred's voice came from the other end. "Alfred! Come home, quick. Dad's trapped under a beam and everything's on fire. God, everything's on fire!" She sobbed into the phone._ "Don't worry, Miss Wayne, I'm just outside," _Alfred said. "Okay," she breathed and hung up. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and looked at her father. She couldn't hold back tears as she held his hand. "Dad, don't die. You can't die. Wake up, Dad, wake up," she sobbed as she shook him. He couldn't leave her again, she wouldn't let him - not after he just got back. If felt as if she'd been by his side forever until Alfred showed up.

"My, God," he gasped at the sight. "Miss Wayne help me pull the beam off of him." Lysa nodded. They positioned themselves on either side of the beam. "On one, two, three!" Alfred said as they lifted the beam threw it behind them. Alfred then picked up Bruce and carried him on his back. Lysa smiled a bit. She didn't know Alfred was that strong. "Follow me," he said as he ran through the the burning rooms. If the flames were burning her, she didn't know. They came to the main part of the library and Alfred played a few keys on the grand piano. Lysa had no time to be confused as a part of the book opened, revealing a passage way. They bolted in to what look like a cave with metal scaffolding. Alfred lead her to a metal evelator and they quickly flew down deeper into the cave. Lysa held onto the the railing of the evelator as the hit the ground, hard.

Above her, flames engulfed the house, the beautiful house, her grandparents' house. She looked back at Alfred. "I think I'm going to have a headache for a week," she said, wiping her forehead. "It's better than being burned alive up there," Alfred countered. "That's true." Lysa looked around the cave, it looked like a secret lair, which was pretty much what it was. _I knew it, _she though, scoffing to her herself. Her father _was _the vigilante. Batman. "So this is what you and Dad have been doing with all your free time," she said. "Don't worry, I won't tell."

"I'm sure your father would appreciate it," Alfred told her. As if on cue, Bruce's eyes fluttered open. "Dad!" Lysa cried, pulling him into a hug. Bruce groaned in pain but returned her hug. "I thought you were dead, when that beam fell on you," she told him. "It's gonna take more than a beam to kill me," he countered, smiling weakly. "I know."

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, becoming more alert. "I think," Lysa replied, looking at her arms and legs. "Just a little burned and in desperate need for water."

"Don't worry, Miss Wayne," Alfred reassured her. "We'll get you fixed up."

"I'm so sorry, Lysa. This is all my fault," Bruce winced. "Not it's not, dad. Stop saying that when it's not true," she replied.

Bruce sat back and gazed up at the burning manor. "What have I done? Everything my family, my father built..." His eyes were becoming shiny with tears. "The Wayne legacy is more than just bricks and mortar, sir," Alfred said. Lysa knew he was right, but she was raised there for the first ten years of her life. It was home, and it was hard to let go of. Almost impossible. "I thought I could help Gotham... But I failed," Bruce continued. "You can still help, Dad," Lysa said.

"Why do we fall?" Alfred asked. Both Lysa and Bruce gazed at Alfred, smiling. "So that we learn to pick ourselves up," he answered. "Still haven't given up on me?" Bruce asked.

Alfred smiled.

"Never."


	11. Chapter X

**Author's Note: So so so sorry for the late update! But we're almost done this story and hopefully the last chapter will be uploaded soon. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter Ten

Fifteen minutes after entering the Batcave

**After Alfred treated** most of Bruce's wounds – Lysa insisted he get treated first since he had to go into the city – Bruce dressed in the Batman suit and made his way to the tank – Tumbler. "I guess you know my secret now," Bruce said to Lysa after a long silence between them. "Oh, I figured it out before all this," she replied, smirking and gesturing to the cave. _Technically _she did, even if it was only a few hours ago. But those hours felt a lifetime away. Had it only been hours since Wayne Manor stood tall? And now it was reduced to nothing more than soot and ashes. The thought made her want to cry.

"How did you know?" He asked. "I'll tell you when you come back," she replied, doing her best to smile. Bruce chuckled. "Now go save this city," Lysa told him. Bruce smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

Bruce climbed into the Tumbler. The engine roared as it raced out of the cave. "He's going to be okay, right?" She asked Alfred, who was standing beside her with a hand on her shoulder. She clutched his hand with her own. "Of course he'll be alright," he said. "He's Batman. He's Bruce Wayne."

Lysa smiled, but it faded into a fit of coughing. Alfred shifted his gaze and looked at her with alarm. "You must still have smoke in your lungs," he stated. She nodded in between coughing. "I should go to the hospital," she told him. Then she realized. "It's chaos out there. The hospital will be no help." Lysa didn't even notice that Alfred had gone over to a cabinet and got a small police flash light. "Open," he said, pointing the flash alight at her mouth. "I need to make sure there's no soot in your throat." She opened, nervously waiting for Alfred's verdict.

He clicked the light off and let out a breath. "No soot, but you'll need oxygen." He walked over to another cabinet and pulled out a small tank and a breathing mask. Lyssandra let out a short laugh. "You guys really have everything," she smiled. "Have to be ready for anything. Put the mask on, and take deep breaths," he instructed. She slid the mask over her nose and mouth, and breathed easier.

A vibration tickled her thigh. Lysa pulled her phone out of her pocket, which surprisingly still worked despite the intense heat. She pulled off the breathing mask to speak. "There's service down here?" she asked Alfred, who had turned on a small TV that played the news. There was no reporter, only video of Gotham and the Narrows, blurred in mist and screaming people. "Like I said – we have to be ready for anything," Alfred replied, shifting his gaze from the TV to her. Lysa gazed around the cave once more. "Even the apocalypse?" She tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. She put the mask over her nose and mouth again.

Alfred shrugged. "If need be," he said, smiling. He turned back to the news and Lysa checked her phone. A text from Alexa. _Are you seeing what's happening outside? _Lysa's heart started beating twice as fast. _I'm seeing it on the news now. You're inside right? _Lysa texted back in a hurry. The last thing she wanted was Alexa or Mason roaming the streets tonight.

_I'm at Gotham General. Mason and I were walking back from a movie, and he got sprayed with whatever that mist was. It just shot up from the ground. He wouldn't stop screaming, I had to take him to the hospital, _Alexa replied. Lysa read the text over, eyes wide. No, not Mason. The hospitals would be backed up for hours – did they even have the antidote?

"Alfred, is there still some of that antidote?" She asked, pulling off the oxygen mask. "Yes, I believe so," he replied. "What's wrong?"

"My best friend was sprayed with the poison that's infecting the city. He's at Gotham General, I need to get him the antidote." Alfred touched her elbow to stop her from getting up. "Miss Wayne, I seriously advise against going anywhere tonight," he said. "Your father will distribute the antidote."

"Who knows how long that will take him?" Lysa breathed. "I can get the antidote to Mason. I'll be in and out."

"Lyssandra, please don't," Alfred tried, but Lysa wouldn't back down. "Either you can drop me off a few blocks away from Gotham General or I can have a hand at driving," she said forcefully. Alfred was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Clearly there's no winning an argument with you, just like your father," he said, grabbing a vial of the antidote from a shelf. "Thank you so much, Alfred," Lysa said. "Oh, and grab two oxygen masks. Don't want to breathe in any of the hallucinogen," Alfred told her. Lysa nodded and grabbed two masks and followed him out the cave. The manor was still burning. Some of the beams and carvings had fallen to the ground. Lysa forced herself not to look at her childhood home as they made their way to a sleek black car. Without a word, they climbed into the car and sped towards the burning city.

It took an agonizingly long time to weave through the streets of Gotha without hitting any of the people running through the streets. Everywhere, windows were bashed-in and buildings were up in flames. Police filled the streets, trying with only some avail to handle the situation. One officer pulled a woman out from under a slab concrete that had fallen from the building above. Lysa gritted her teeth and looked away.

"Gotham General is just two blocks away. Do your best to run in and run out. And avoid everyone if you can. You can't be too careful," Alfred instructed, handing her the vial of antidote. Lysa nodded and shot out the passenger door, running for the hospital.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, suddenly she was thankful for all the fitness classes she took. Glass and ruble crunched beneath her feet, and she held the oxygen mask tightly to her face with one hand, and the vial in the other.

After narrowly avoiding a rock meant for the window of a pawn shop, Lysa stepped into the Gotham General. It was overflowing with people. The waiting room was crammed and extra seats had been brought in. Nurses and doctors rushed through the halls, pushing past others. People lay in gurneys in the halls, trying to catch the attention of the nurses. Instead of the usual antiseptic smell, the scent of sweat littered the air.

Lysa weaved through the mess of people, trying to catch a glimpse of Alexa. If people recognized her from the tabloids or news, she didn't notice. "Alexa!" Lysa cried into the room, hoping her voice would carry. "Alexa!" Then she saw Alexa's figure, leaning against the gray-green wall. "Alexa!" Lysa said and she approached her friend. "Lysa? What the hell are you doing here?" Alexa cried. Lysa held out the vial.

"It's an antidote. For Mason. Get the doctors to administer it for him." She pressed the vial into Alexa's hand. Her face convulsed in disbelief. "Lysa, what are you talking about? Where did you get it?" Lysa placed her hand on her best friend's shoulder. "Alexa, just trust me. Please. This can save Mason." Alexa gave in and nodded. "Text me when he gets better okay?" Lysa asked. "You can't stay?"

"No, I have to get back right away," Lysa shook her head. "Thank you," Alexa pulled her in for a quick hug and then dashed off to find a doctor. Lysa smiled and then left the hospital, clutching the mask to her face.

She was just over halfway to the car when she felt herself falling to the hot concrete sidewalk. Or road. She couldn't tell anymore. Hot glass dug into her hands. A young man had toppled on her, unconscious. No. Dead. Lysa pushed him off her, when he heard a voice amid the chaos. "Well, who is this?" A deep voice said, making its way towards her. Heart pounding, Lysa stood and tried to run away, but the man caught her arm and pushed her against the side of a building forcefully.

Her mind flashed back to the night when Walker had pulled a knife on her. "I've seen you on the news. You're that Little Miss Wayne, aren't you?" The man said, his breath hot against her face. Lysa tried to pull away, but the man's grip would not loosen. She tried not look at his face, for fear of remembering too clearly. She couldn't have this burned into her mind, too. "Now what would a billionaire be doing out late, especially now?" Lysa didn't answer; she only concentrated on a way out.

The man opened his mouth to speak again, but he didn't get the chance. Lysa kicked the man in the groin as forcefully as she could. He recoiled, and then she took the chance and punched him the in the jaw. He stood, disoriented, and Lysa grabbed the mask and ran towards the car. Only a block away.

She couldn't tell if the man was chasing her, but she never looked back. The car finally came into view, and Lysa slipped into the passenger's seat. "Go, Alfred, go!" She cried, more forcefully than she'd intended. "What happened?" Alfred asked as he started the car. "I got the antidote to Alexa," she tried to steady her breathing. "But on the way back, a man attacked me. It didn't see his face, but I fought him off. I'm fine… I think."

The ride was silent until they managed to get out of the streets of Gotham. "Alfred… please don't tell Dad about this. He'd only be mad," Lysa said, playing idly with her phone. _He'd only be furious._ Alfred shrugged and smiled soflty. "Perhaps not. You did help your friend."

"He'd only see the fact that I put myself, and not to mention you, in danger. I'm sorry for dragging out here tonight," she replied. "I figured it was safer than letting you drive yourself through that mess," he told her. "But I won't tell Master Wayne. However, he will figure it out sooner or later."

"I know. And I'll tell him… eventually," she said. "And I know whatever you tell him, he'll come around eventually. No one could stay mad at you," he smiled at her, and she smiled back. "Thanks, Alfred."

By the time they pulled up to the manor, most of the flames had died out, leaving the property completely dark. The manor that was once Lysa's childhood home was reduced to nothing more than a skeleton.


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

The day after the fire

**The next morning, **as the sun peeked through the grey clouds,Lyssandra and Bruce fished out whatever remained in the rubble of Wayne Manor and packed it into the trunk of Bruce's Lamborghini. Lucky for him, the bulk of his cars were stored in an underground garage and survived the fire. If she didn't have photographic memory, they would be hard to keep track of. When she was younger, she would sit for hours in the garage, staring at her father's collection of cars. It fascinated her, for some reason, and it always seemed strange to her that they would have five or six cars, and everyone else she met had one or two. Sometimes, if they were unlocked, she would get in the driver's seat and pretend to drive them, gliding her fingers along the leather steering wheels and pretending to push the gas pedal even though her foot couldn't reach. Bruce would find her sometime later and laugh and play along beside her. "Where are we off to, today?" he would say in the passenger's seat. Lysa would always give a different answer.

Alexa had texted her earlier saying Mason was alright. The doctors said he'd make a full recovery, thanks to that antidote. It was the best news she'd heard all morning. Lysa would have to visit Mason at the hospital soon.

The autumn air smelt of burnt everything, and white ashes were scattered around the green lawn like freshly fallen snow. Only the skeleton of the manor remained, large wooden beams towering up. Beams that once held the roof up. There wasn't much else they'd pulled from the rubble. A few of her books, pieces of jewelry, photos and clothes that were only slightly scorched. Her computer, and almost everything else from her from her room had been completely destroyed. Even though her possessions were replaceable, she still felt heartbroken at the loss of her room, her home. Only her memories remained. Would she ever live here again,or would they leave the remains of the house to decompose into the soil?

A million memories made their way into her mind as she walked through the remains of the house. Playing hide-and-seek, her birthdays, her sneaking down to the ballroom when it was way past her bedtime for her father's birthdays. All the Christmases and Thanksgivings and New Year's she'd spent with her family in the manor. The night of her fifteenth birthday when she snuck in to her old room, her children's books and wallpaper and some of her old clothes still there. The night she'd been attacked and then ran straight into her father's arms, hugging him for the first time in seven years. Tears were rolling down her face now and landing in the ashes. Lysa shut her eyes tight and wiped them away. As much as she didn't want to believe it – nothing could change what happened.

Just as Lysa was about to head back to the car, a speck of green and orange caught her eye. She reached down through the rubble and ash picked the item up and dusted it off lightly, as if it too would crumple to ash and dust. Her eyes widened. It was a book, the ends of the pages scorched. Despite the situation, she laughed soflty. In her hands was _Goodnight Moon_, hardly damaged. Another tear escaped her eye, and she walked through the remains of Wayne Manor to the car.

Bruce was waiting for her, leaning against the shiny silver door of the car. "What have you got?" he asked when she leaned on the car beside him. "Something I never thought I'd find," she said softly. She showed her father the book, and he laughed. "You're favourite bedtime story. Still with us even after all this," he said. She smiled and placed the book in the back seat of the car through an open window. After, they stared at the soot and ashes for a long time without saying anything. The busy streets of Gotham whispered gently behind them, as if the city were a dream. The sun continued to peek through the clouds, sending rays down onto the remains of the manor periodically. Lysa wanted to ask her father so many questions, but every sentence felt weird in her mouth, until she finally found the right words. "So this… playboy, carefree behaviour was all an act?" she asked. "A cover for being the Batman?"

"Yeah. I can't seem like I care too much. It'd be obvious. But you still figured it out. How?"

"Well, for one, you only acted that way in public. And it was odd that you were going out almost every night, and that night when you came home half-dead. But I knew for sure when the Tumbler showed up on the news. I saw the exact same one on a tour of Wayne Enterprises when I was eight, in the Applied Sciences division. It couldn't just be a coincidence."

Bruce smiled. "You're too smart for your own good." He ruffled her already-matted hair. "Were you just not going to tell me?" Lysa asked. "No I was… eventually," he replied. Lysa didn't say anything. Would he really not have told her about him prowling around rooftops and putting his life in danger every night until he ended up in the hospital? She looked at the ground and kicked a bit of rubble and ash out of the way. Her skin was stained with dark spots of soot, ash and dirt from last night and this morning. She desperately wanted a shower.

"Honey, are you alright?" Bruce asked after a while. Lysa wanted to laugh at the question. "Within a month, my father reappears after seven years, turns out to be a vigilante dressed in a bat suit, my mother almost died, and my childhood home gets burned down by someone who also tried to have everyone in the city kill each other. I couldn't be further from 'alright'." Lysa looked at her father, but he was looking at the ground, as if regretting asking the question. She let out a sigh. "I still just have so many questions. I don't know where to begin."

"Let's begin seven years ago. Finally." Bruce sighed, gazing up and giving her an encouraging smile. "Me leaving," he started, "was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. But still, I never stopped thinking about you. I traveled to Asia, Bhutan. I… became involved with crime. Stealing and such. I was eventually caught, but Ducard, or Ra's Al Ghul, the one who tried to destroy the city, trained me with the League of Shadows."

"The League of Shadows?"

"It's a training society for assassins and ninjas," Bruce explained, to which Lysa's wanted to scoff. He couldn't be serious, but his expression was far from. "You're a _ninja?_" She asked, trying to take in her father's story. It all seemed so ludicrous, but after last night, she'd believe almost anything. Bruce laughed. "In a manner of speaking. Anyway, he taught me to use my fears to my advantage, and the disadvantage of my opponents. But my final test was something I could not accomplish. I wouldn't kill. I wasn't, I'm _not _an executioner. I escaped the League of Shadows, narrowly saving Du- Ra's Al Ghul, and then returned to Gotham to save it."

"Save Gotham from what? Itself?"

"You could say that. This city is so ridden with crime and corruption, and I want to make it right."

"But… why you?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "A long time ago, your mother said to me: 'What chance does Gotham have if the good people do nothing?' And now, I finally want to do something about it." Lysa took in all of what her father said, trying to understand what he went through. _He'd committed crimes… and trained for years… all to save this city? _"I-I'm sorry," Lysa stammered, still having trouble believing everything. Bruce wrapped his arm around her. "You have nothing to be sorry for. And I'm here now. Nothing can change that."

"And here I was thinking you left to drink and dick around on some tropical island," she admitted, blushing a bit. Bruce laughed. "That would be a reasonable assumption."

"Just don't get yourself killed doing this vigilante-thing, okay? For that I could never forgive you."

Bruce took her hands in his lovingly, and looked her in the eye. "Lyssandra Martha Amelia Wayne, I'm not going anywhere. I'd never leave you or your mother again."

Lysa smiled and rested her head on her father's shoulder. The autumn breeze was getting colder, making her shiver. It blew specks of ash and soot in her face and she wiped them away. She was still in her dress from the night before, though it was covered in scorch marks.

"I can't believe it's all gone," she thought aloud. "One day the manor stands and the next…" "Don't worry," Bruce reassured her. "We'll build it back up." A sudden rush of joy filled her body. "Really?"

"Of course. It'll take a while, but Wayne Manor will stand tall again."

"I'd love nothing more. But in the meantime, where are we going to live? You still haven't told me."

"_We? _I thought you would've wanted to go back to your mother's place," he looked at her in disbelief. It seemed like a lifetime since she left Rachel's apartment. "It's only been a few weeks. I was promised a few _months _at least," Lysa gave her father a friendly glare. "Plus, after moving into the manor again it would be hard going back to Mom's tiny apartment." Bruce smiled.

"Okay. How does a penthouse in downtown Gotham sound?"

* * *

**Author's Note: This marks the end of Why We Fall. Thank you so much readers/reviewers/favouriters/followers for sticking with this story! I've been working on a sequel so stay tuned for that. **

**Thanks so much again!**

**\- CaptainoftheUSSTardis**


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